


Time Changes Everything, Yet Nothing at All

by MeganElisabeth



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:57:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 40,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganElisabeth/pseuds/MeganElisabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 513 - Justin lives in New York with his son Bryson. Brian still lives in Pittsburgh and is extremely close to Gus. Brian and Justin haven't spoken to one another since Justin left with Ethan 18 years ago. Although time changes many things in life, there are some things that time can never change. When fate conspires to bring them together again, will history be rewritten? Or will history simply repeat itself? Ready or not, whatever may happen, the time has come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time Changes Everything

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at ever writing a story so comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated! (: 
> 
> I want to give a huge thanks to Kim! Without all of her help and encouragement this story wouldn't even be a possibility! 
> 
> _________________________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> Disclaimer: All original characters of Queer as Folk are the property of Showtime and Cowlip Productions. No copyright infringement is intended!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The life altering day of Justin's life many years later. 
> 
> Brian isn't in this chapter. Don't worry, though, the entire next chapter will be completely dedicated to Brian and Gus!

Pittsburgh

 

Friday, February 22, 2002

 

11:47 P.M. 

 

 

“I was practicing the Beethoven; it sounded like shit and I realized it’s all your fault.”

 

“My fault?”

 

“I tried to forget about you but I can’t. You’re all I think about.”

 

He’s looking at me with so much pure admiration and love. He wants me, and only me. Someone finally wants exactly what I want, exactly what I need. He reaches his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me in towards him, hard, fast and strong. His tongue plunges deep into my mouth; he’s kissing me with so much passion that I can feel the love he has for me pulsing through his veins. He’s practically panting as he pulls away from me, giving me three little nips on my already well ravished lips. 

 

I open my eyes to look at him when I notice his eyes are already extremely focused on something behind me. He’s staring intensely with these saddened yet compassionate big brown eyes, and at that moment I know; I just know who it is. I feel him before I see him, and as I turn my head around slowly I see him standing there just staring at me. 

 

He looks away and pulls off his mask before returning the gaze that cuts through me like a knife. As he pulls off his mask I see his emotional mask slip as well. I’ve always been able to see past the Brian Kinney fuck ‘em all I don’t give a shit attitude. I’ve always been able to see past his mask and somehow break past his walls. Just for a short few seconds I see emotions flickering across his beautiful hazel eyes, emotions I never thought I would ever be the cause of. Shock. Disappointment. Pain. 

 

At that very moment it all hits me; I can’t believe what I’ve just done. I see his emotional mask slip back into place as he blinks a few times and parts his lips, letting his shock show for just a second before returning them to a firm, straight line. He’s never looked at me this way before. He looks so betrayed, yet like he knew it was coming. He’s looking at me like he expected it to happen, but didn’t actually imagine it ever would, especially not like this. The look on his face says it all; it was like he was saying, ‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ Like that first night at his loft, he asked me if I was coming or going, however, I realize with startling clarity that I don’t have the luxury of choosing now, not that I deserve it. I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it. 

 

Nothing in my entire life has ever cut me as deeply as the look that he is giving me now. In his eyes I see my biggest fear, I see him letting go, letting go of whatever it was that we had. His eyes are telling me to go on, be happy. At that very moment I realize this is our goodbye and I feel physical pain shooting straight to my heart, or what’s left of it anyway. I can’t stand the physical sickness and pain I’m feeling like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I feel the backs of my eyes stinging with a floodgate of tears threatening to fall at any given second. I quickly look down away from his penetrating stare, blinking back the tears as I feel the bile start to rise in my stomach. I’m going to be sick and I know I can’t hold back the inevitable breakdown any longer. I have to get out of here before I lose control and fall to my knees and end up sobbing like the pathetic excuse of a man that I am. I truly can’t think of doing anything worse than what I just did; I betrayed him in the worst and deepest way possible. I look back at him once more as if trying to memorize every perfect line and detail of the flawless ‘face of God’ before I walk out the door. At this very moment someone could stab me in the gut and I wouldn’t feel a thing. I deserve it, though. 

 

I knew this had to happen eventually. He couldn’t give me the things I need, or as he says, he won’t give me the things that I need. I don’t want him to, though. I wanted to change him at first, but now I realize he shouldn’t have to, nor do I want him to. If something is meant to be, it should just be without having to be changed at all. He deserves someone that accepts what he wants to offer, and I deserve someone that wants the same things in life as I do. Ethan wants to love and be loved by one person, he wants romance, but most of all he wants to love me. 

 

As we’re making our way outside Babylon I realize there is no looking back now. It’s time to begin a life with Ethan, a life that we both want together. Whether I’m ready or not, it’s time.

 

 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

New York City

 

Friday, August 7, 2020

 

6:48 A.M.

 

 

“Dad, come on!”

 

“Dad, seriously, I’m gonna be late get up!”

 

“Daaaadd!”

 

I slowly blink my eyes and feel a stray tear fall down my cheek. Shit, not again. What time is it? Piece of shit alarm clock, I swear it only works when I don’t actually need to wake up for something. “I’m almost ready, I swear,” I yell as I throw myself out of bed. Fuck, my head feels like it’s going to spontaneously combust. I drag myself over to the closet and throw on my big comfy grey NYU hoodie decorated with multiple paint splotches all across the front and down the sleeves. No need for me to dress up, there’s absolutely no way I’m going anywhere but back to bed today. 

 

This is undoubtedly the most painful and hardest day of the entire year for me. It takes everything I have inside me to drag myself out of bed every year on Bryson’s birthday. So many things could have been different for not only myself, but for Bryson, too. If only I hadn’t been such an asshole and left with Ethan that night, then I might have been able to at least attempt to repair what Brian and I had. I could’ve given Bryson such a better life with Brian. Of course Brian didn’t want a kid and has this ridiculously stupid idea in his head that he would be the worst father in the entire world. He wouldn’t be, though, he would’ve been an incredible father and I would’ve shown him that. 

 

I hurry my way down the stairs to see him staring up at me with a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ kind of look. “If this is your version of what “ready” looks like it’s scary to imagine what you not being ready looks like,” he says. I roll my eyes. As I get down to the bottom step I lunge towards him and envelop him in a big bear hug while speckling him with little kisses all over his face. 

 

“Oh, God, Dad, please stop, I’m begging you,” he says while trying with all of his might to slip out of my tight grip. “Dad!” 

 

“Alright, alright,” I say as I pull back from him. 

 

I place my hands on his shoulders and look up at him. I can’t believe he’s already seventeen and a senior in high school. I smile and say “Happy Birthday, squirt.” 

 

“Dad, I’m 17 and like five inches taller than you. If anything you’re the squirt.” 

 

“Alright then stud, big man”, I teased while ruffling his hair.

 

“Okay okay, stop already I’m gonna be late!”

 

I walk towards the front door and grab the keys from the side table. 

 

“Uh, Dad? It’s bad enough I have to be driven to school at 17, let alone with a guy that broadcasts to everyone that he literally just rolled out of bed. Could you please at least ditch the old man slippers?” 

 

I look down and sigh; today is definitely not my day. 

 

As we’re pulling up to the school I look over at him again and realize how lucky I am to have the world’s most beautiful son. 

 

“Dad, you’ve been staring at me like that the entire drive here, you’re freaking me out,” he tells me with a worried gaze. 

 

I smile at him and say, “I love you, Brys.”

 

He pulls me into a hug and says, “I love you too, Dad.” 

 

I smile with watery eyes as he gets out of the car. “3:00 today, right?” 

 

“Yep, try and remember to wear your shoes when you come to get me this time, gramps.”

 

“Ha, ha very funny; have a good day, SQUIRT,” I yell with a wink. He turns around and glares at me once more before making his way up the sidewalk. I smile as I put the car in drive and make my way back home for a day full of reliving the past through memories, its all I have left of him. 

 

I seriously think there is something wrong with me. I mean, how many times can a person have the same exact dream? Actually, more like a nightmare. Aren’t dreams supposed to have some sort of deep psychological meaning or something? If so, what on earth is the meaning behind reliving the biggest mistake and regret of my entire life? I mean for God’s sake I torture myself with thinking of the past enough. How could someone ever possibly forget the exact moment that changed their entire life and future? I most certainly don’t need recurring nightmares reminding me of what I’ve lost and will never have again. Whenever my mind wanders it goes back to the same exact memories every single time, and has now for eighteen years. Eighteen YEARS. Yep, there is definitely something wrong with me. 

 

As I’m making my way up the stairs I realize that I need to at least try to look my best by 3:30 when I pick Bryson up from school. My God, how much shittier could I possibly be? My son had to wake ME up on his seventeenth birthday so he wasn’t late for school. I think it’s supposed to be the other way around. Only Brian could manage to affect my daily life without saying an actual word to me in eighteen years. Can’t get much more pathetic than that. God forbid I actually go one fucking day without Brian Kinney on my mind. 

 

As I’m opening up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom I realize I look just as bad as I feel. Dear God what I would give for an aspirin that had an immediate affect. It’s going to take me hours to even attempt to look like I didn’t just get run over by a car. 

 

I pull my hoodie up over my head and slip out of my sweatpants as I turn on the shower and wait for the water to heat up. I step into the shower and am immediately bombarded by the thoughts I have literally every single time I stand there and feel the water washing over me. Brian. Like I said, pathetic. I feel the water trickling down my neck as I lean my head back and close my eyes. The second I close my eyes I instantly regret it as the image of Brian slamming me against the glass shower wall and licking the spot right below my ear driving me crazy pops into my head. I look down and I’m hard as a rock, it would be impossible not to be. If anyone could get a man instantly hard while being over 300 miles away it’s Brian fucking Kinney. Fuck. 

 

I reach down and slowly start stroking myself. Ah, this is just what I need. I start stroking faster and faster as I feel the tingly sensation in my balls right before I know I’m gonna cum. I throw my head back, let my eyes drift shut and see Brian. I let out a strangled groan as the cum pours out of me, drenching my hand. I brace myself against the shower with my arm. With my eyes still shut I start shaking as the tears and pain swallow me whole. I feel the same exact way I felt at Babylon that night eighteen years ago; shame, pure and utter shame.

 

I slide down the glass shower wall and just let myself fall apart. I don’t know how it’s possible for a day to be the best day of your entire life but the most painful as well, but that’s exactly what Bryson’s birthday is to me. 

 

Bryson is all grown up now and will be going off to college next year. He’ll be gone in a few months. My job raising him is done; now it’s officially too late for me to give him the life with the other father that he deserved. It’s too late, and it’s all my fault. It was never supposed to be like this. Brian was supposed to be the person that I raised a child with and spent the rest of my life with. Instead I chose Ethan, and now I have to live the rest of my life with not only having days like these full of excruciating pain and sorrow, but causing unintentional pain to Bryson, too. What the fuck is wrong with me?

 

After breaking down in the shower like a fucking sixteen-year-old girl for God knows how long, I finally pull myself up and step out of the shower. As I wrap a towel around my waist I stare at myself in the mirror again. I need to fucking get it together and stop acting like a pathetic little faggot. Today is my son’s fucking seventeenth birthday. 

 

Bryson. God, I truly cannot imagine my life without him. While of course I wish things could’ve ended up differently with Brian, not once have I ever regretted the way the rest of my life has turned out. I couldn’t ask for a more perfect son; he’s absolutely everything to me. 

 

I still can’t believe he’s going off to college next year; he’s grown up so fast. It feels like it was just yesterday that I was taking him to his first day of grade school. He was so nervous; he changed his outfit six times and I teased him, telling him that he was being a total girl. I feel a huge smile forming across my face. Great, I’m turning into my mother. 

 

I spread the toothpaste across my toothbrush and look up at myself in the mirror once more. “You’re better than this, you’re stronger than this,” I tell myself. My son has been my main source of happiness from the very first time I held him in my arms. I smile as I remember; he’s all I need, all I’ll ever need. 

 

 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

New York City

 

Friday, August 7, 2020

 

1:26 P.M.

 

 

I feel long, lanky arms squeezing me from behind as I look up and see Emma looking down at me with the biggest smile plastered on her face. “Can’t breathe,” I gasp out while trying to catch my breath.

 

She unwraps her arms and jumps down to the seat next to me and practically screams “Happy Birthday!” into my ear.

 

“Jesus, Em! Broadcast it to the entire school, why don’t ya?”

 

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” she says as she quickly rises to her feet. I roll my eyes as I pull her back down next to me. She grins at me while stealthily stealing a Dorito from my plate. 

 

“So, whatchya got planned for the big day?”

 

I shrug as I take a drink of water and say, “Not too much, I think dad’s taking me out to some fancy place for dinner tonight. I think I’m just gonna hang with him for the night.”

 

She just stares at me like I’m insane and finally reaches over and pulls out a hair from my head. “What the hell was that for!? I say as I scoot farther away from her.

 

“Yep,” she says, “Just what I thought. Your hair is officially starting to turn gray from acting like a pathetic old geezer.”

 

“Oh, my God, you’re such a drama queen! Just because I’m spending my seventeenth birthday with my dad does not make me some old man. I have like 100 more birthdays to celebrate after this one. He’s been acting really down lately,"I inform her. "He was practically crying when he dropped me off at school today.”

 

She scoots closer towards me and sighs, “Brys, I understand you love your dad, but you have to start living your life. You’re a senior in high school, for God’s sake! You’re supposed to be having the time of your life, not sitting at home with your daddy on your birthday on a Friday night!"

 

The bell rings signaling that lunch is over and I pull her in towards me to give her a kiss on the cheek as I start to get up. She stands up with me and pulls me back towards her. “Bryson, I’m serious,” she says.

 

“I know, I know. I’ve gotta go. I’m fine, I promise.” I look back at her and give her a reassuring smile, letting her know that I really am okay as I walk out the door and head towards my next class. 

 

The last class of the day, thank God. I love that I have art last period so I can allow the stress of my entire day to just pour out of my body and into my work. Ms. Diaz is going on about making sure we turn in our sketchbooks before we leave today. I pull out my sketchbook and put my pencil to the page as I relax and feel my mind begin to drift away. 

 

I’m really worried about my dad. For as long as I can remember there are several times throughout the year where he will just completely shut down emotionally for an entire day. I don’t think he realizes I notice when he does but I always do; it’s pretty hard to miss the sad, empty faraway gaze his eyes show. 

 

It’s been happening a lot more lately and I don’t know what to do. I’m starting to feel really guilty and even more worried about the fact that I’m going to be moving out and going to college next year. I can tell it’s already really affecting him. Every time I bring it up I see sadness and fear flicker across his eyes. I really don’t understand why. I mean it’s not like I’m moving out of state or anything; I’ll see him all the time. The only thing that really gets to me is the fact that I’ll be leaving him and he’ll be completely alone. 

 

I’m practically the only person he hangs out with on a regular basis. Sure, he has a few people he talks to every once in awhile, and he goes out for drinks with his co-workers after work sometimes. However, he hasn’t even tried connecting with anyone since he and Ethan split which was over ten years ago. I’ve tried getting him to date before but he’s always just laughed and said that he doesn’t need anyone but me. I’m leaving next year, though. What happens then? It absolutely kills me to think of him being completely alone when I leave. He needs to have someone in his life to make him happy. He deserves to be happy. 

 

I have to figure something out. Maybe Em can help me set him up with somebody; she loves all of those bullshit matchmaker shows. I feel something nudging my shoulder and I look over to see Nick looking at me with his eyebrows raised. Shit, did he say something?

 

“Hey man, are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine; just tired, why?” I say.

 

“You looked fucking out of it, dude,” he says. The bell goes off as I look up at the clock and see that its already 2:45. Shit. I look down at my sketchbook and see an empty page staring back at me. I’ve never gone an entire art class without something to show for it. Damn. I really must have been out of it to have not drawn a single thing.

 

I throw my pencil in my bag and close my sketchbook as I make my way up to Ms. Diaz’ desk. I add my sketchbook onto the pile as I smile up at Ms. Diaz who is raising an eyebrow at me. I try to give her a convincing smile and walk away, but I hear her heels clicking on the tile coming towards me. Crap, I really need to learn to mask my emotions better. I sigh as I turn around to face her and she’s giving me a strict ‘don’t bullshit me’ look.

 

“So, you wanna tell me what’s going on today?” she asks.

 

“I’m just really tired, that’s all. I didn’t get very much sleep last night and was almost late today," I say. Technically that isn’t an actual lie. She starts opening her mouth to say something but I stop her and quickly make my way for the door as I say, “Sorry, I gotta go. Have a good weekend!” 

 

I make my way down the hall and up the stairs as I scoot my way past a couple that is making out and practically humping each other on the staircase. Gross, people like that make me wanna fucking hurl. 

 

I finally weave my way through the hoards of people and enter my locker combination. I sling my backpack off of my shoulder and start unzipping it as I feel hands come up behind me and cover my eyes. I hear a high-pitched girly voice say, “Guess who?” I smile and say “Hmm, JLo?”

 

I hear her giggle as she pulls her hands away and says, “Oh, please! Jennifer Lopez only wishes she could look half as good as I do.”

 

I finish putting my books into my locker and slam the door shut as I turn around laughing. I give her a kiss on the cheek and say, “Well, of course, Em, every girl wishes that.” She smiles and slaps my arm playfully. 

 

All of a sudden she gets a devious look on her face and asks, “So are you ready for the best gift ever?” Uh-oh, I know that look.

 

“Oh, Em, having you as a best friend is the greatest gift anyone could ever possibly ask for," I say with a smirk.

 

She rolls her eyes and says, “Well, duh, but no. I mean a gift that only someone as fabulous as me could possibly get you," she explains with a smug grin on her face. Great; now I’m really getting nervous. 

 

I see her pull out two plastic cards from her bag and hand one to me. What the heck? I look down and inspect the card more closely and see that it’s a fake ID. Oh, shit. I look up at her and see an amused sparkle in her eyes.

 

“You can thank me for being the most amazing best friend any time now," she says.

 

I smile at her and say, “And what do I need this for exactly?” I don’t know if I actually want to know the answer to that.

 

She smirks and answers, “Well you’ll need it for tomorrow night of course, silly.” I groan inwardly. I knew she had something up her sleeve. I quirk an eyebrow at her and she sighs.

 

“We’re going out tomorrow night. A fabulous best friend like me could never live with myself if I stand by and allow my best friend to mope around and become an old man before he even makes it to the age of eighteen. You’re welcome," she says as she smiles up at me.

 

I shake my head and laugh before I sling my arm around her shoulder and say, “Alright, if I go out with you tomorrow night will you stop calling me an old man every five minutes?”

 

She bumps my hip with her own and says, “Maybe, I guess it depends on if you dance your age or like a stiff old geezer with all of the hot, sexy men on the dance floor.” Wait, what!? 

 

I whip my head around and stare at her, “Wait a minute, what did you just say?!”

 

She puts her hand on my shoulder and sighs, “Bryson, we’re going to PULSE tomorrow night and you’re going to dance with hot, sweaty men all night long.” I just stare at her with my mouth wide open in shock; we’re going to a gay dance club!? 

 

I think she sees how freaked out I look and grabs my face with her hands, forcing me to look into her eyes. “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to have the absolute, best time of your life. For God sakes, Bryson! You’re going to at least kiss a guy before you graduate high school if I have anything to do with it!”

 

Shit, she does have a point. I haven’t even kissed a guy and I’m a freaking senior in high school. Maybe going out tomorrow night isn’t the absolute worst thing that could happen. 

 

I look into her big, hopeful, brown eyes and I just know I can’t say no to her. I bring her in towards me for a hug and whisper thank you in her ear as she smiles against my chest and squeezes her arms tighter around me. She really is the best friend anyone could ever possibly ask for.

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

New York City

 

Friday, August 7, 2020

 

3:04 P.M.

 

 

I’m sitting in my car with the windows down and enjoying the feel of the fresh breeze sweeping across my face. It is such a beautiful day out today, absolutely perfect for my surprise for Bryson later. I can’t wait to see the look on his face. My thoughts are interrupted as I hear the car door open and see Bryson. 

 

He looks over at me with a shocked expression on his face while shutting the door. I see him smirk out of the corner of my eye as I turn out of the school’s u-drive. 

 

“Well, well, well, don’t you look sharp? I guess even men your age can still clean up pretty nice if they have enough hours to spare,” he says. 

 

I smile over at him and say, “I’ve always looked this good, and always will. Age will never affect my dazzling good looks.” At that he starts laughing so hard his eyes begin to water and I just roll my eyes. “How was school?” 

 

He shrugs and says, “Same shit, different day.” 

 

I laugh and say, “You say that every single day.” 

 

He lifts his eyebrow and says, “Yeah, and?” 

 

“Well, I mean, doesn’t anything interesting or new ever happen?” 

 

“Nothing ever worth mentioning. I don’t really pay attention to all of the pathetic teenage drama and gossip news stories; they bore me. So, where are we going?” he asks. 

 

“I thought we’d go home so you can change and I can give you one of your presents before we go to dinner. The reservation is at 5:30. Oh! Grandma called to wish you a Happy Birthday, so you need to call her back.” 

 

He nods his head and says okay. 

 

I sigh and wait to tell him the same exact thing I have to tell him every single year. He knows it’s coming. “Of course Ethan called, too, and left a message; there’s another card in the mail as well.” I glance over at him and see him grimace and turn his head to glare at me. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” I say. He turns his head to look out the window and I wonder what’s going through his head. 

 

I don’t understand why the fuck Ethan even bothers to call or send cards anymore. He never gets a call back. I mean, really, what the hell does he expect? I could care less that he left me and tried to make some big name for himself in the world as a violinist. What I will never ever be able to forgive him for is abandoning the little boy that was supposed to be the son that we raised together. Of course Ethan wouldn’t give a shit about anything or anyone other than himself. There isn’t a selfless bone in his entire body. Bryson didn’t get to see that side of him, though; he only remembers him as the guy who was supposed to be his ‘other daddy.’ 

 

I don’t blame Bryson for holding hostile feelings towards him. I’m kind of glad in a way that Ethan left when Bryson was so young, though, that way he didn’t get too attached before Ethan eventually decided to leave. Fuck Ethan. God, how could I not have seen through all of his bullshit before it was too late like Brian did? Brian. God damnit.

 

I pull into the driveway and turn off the car. I follow Bryson to the front door and as I’m unlocking the door my phone rings. I throw the phone over to Bryson and say “Grandma.” 

 

He sighs before answering “Hey Grandma.” 

 

I hear a loud “BRYSON!” screech through the phone and laugh as he holds the phone away from his ear. “Yep, the one and only, what’s up?” “Thanks Gram, yeah I know, yeah we’ll see each other in a few months, though, yeah miss you too, you didn’t have to do that Gram, Yeah, alright, well, I gotta go get ready for dinner. Okay, I will; love you too.” 

 

He shoves the phone back at me and says, “My God now I know why you talk so much; she doesn’t even take time for breaths in between words!” 

 

I smile, “It’s in the Taylor genes; you’ll understand soon enough.” He starts shaking his head back and forth as he holds his hand up in a stop motion and snorts, “No way! Thank God my body seems to have missed that specific gene.” 

 

“You’ll see. Go clean up and put something nice on for dinner, and then I’ll give you your present from Grandma and me before we leave.” 

 

He makes his way up the stairs and says, “Please; when don’t I look nice? Not everyone has to try hard to look this good, Dad.” 

 

I chuckle; well at least he’s got my confidence gene, that’s for sure. 

 

I go to my bedroom and take the box out of the closet as I finish putting one of the presents into a bag and start wrapping the other one. He’s gonna be really shocked. I sure as hell know I was when Mom said she wanted to go in half with me on it. I carry the present over to the living room and turn on the T.V.; just another day full of more bullshit lies in the world of politics. I sigh and decide to watch it anyway. Bryson should be down any minute; he gets ready faster than anyone that I know. I really hope he enjoys tonight. I love seeing him smile. Nothing can brighten my day better than his smile. 

 

He takes two steps at a time down the stairs and jumps past the last one as he makes his way toward the living room. I turn to look at him and I know it sounds like a ridiculous cliché but, my God he takes my breath away. He’s perfect. My little boy is officially all grown up. As I look up at him I see a man now, a stunningly handsome man. He’s wearing his charcoal grey, BOSS solid chambray dress shirt, matching black BOSS dress pants, and matching black BOSS Balman textured lace-up shoes. I’ve told him he could model so many times; he really could. 

 

I don’t know where he got the label whore thing from; he’s just as bad as Brian. Shit, no. 

 

He grins at me and says, “Well, I know I look hot but unfortunately we don’t have the time for you to sit there and stare at me all night. We have a reservation, remember?” 

 

I laugh as I get up with a shrug and say, “Just another gene you got from me. I see you need some help in the confidence area there, though, huh?” He laughs and walks away from me with that huge illuminating smile that brightens the entire room. God, he’s so beautiful. 

 

We go over to the couch and sit down as I reach over to retrieve the royal-blue bag that has Happy Birthday written in white cursive letters across the front from the coffee table directly in front of us. As I hand it over to him I say, “This one is from Grandma and me; she really wanted to help me be able to get you the best one.” 

 

He looks at it curiously and opens the bag, pulling out the layers of blue-and-white tissue paper. He finally gets to the bottom of the bag and reaches in to pull out the box. The second he gets it out of the bag he jumps off the couch with it in his hand and looks utterly shocked and overjoyed. He looks down at me and says, “Oh my- OH MY GOD! No way, there’s no way! Dad! Holy crap!” 

 

He smiles one of the biggest and brightest smiles I’ve ever seen in my entire life and tackles me down onto the couch with a big hug. “How, though!? It’s $2000! I’ve wanted this camera for a year now! I can’t believe it!” 

 

He finally lets go of me and I chuckle, “So I guess this means you like it, then?” 

 

“It’s absolutely perfect! Thank you so so much! I can’t wait to take hundreds of pictures!” 

 

Ah, I love seeing him this happy. I knew he’d be surprised, but I had no idea he’d go this crazy over it. For $2000 it sure as hell better be the camera of his dreams. It’s a Canon EOS 6D, whatever the heck that means; all that matters is that he loves it. 

 

“I’m glad you like it. You’ll have to call Grandma and tell her thank you too, I was going to get you a different one, but she said that you mentioned this one as ‘any photographer’s dream camera,’ so we went in on it together. I wanted to give it to you before we left to eat, because I have a feeling you’re gonna want to use it tonight.” 

 

He looks at me inquisitively and says, “Tonight?” 

 

“Yep,” I say as we get up and walk toward the front door. “You’ll understand when we get there; you ready?” He nods his head as I lock the door. Gosh, I cannot wait for this. He’s going to be even more surprised than he was with the camera. The look on his face will be priceless. 

 

I pull into the parking garage and he looks over at me with an extremely confused expression on his face. We get out of the car and he says, “You made me dress up for some sort of weird picnic in a creepy parking garage?” I pull him by his hand towards me and we start walking as I say, “Just wait for it.” It only takes a couple of minutes and he stops dead in his tracks on the sidewalk as he looks up with a glimmer in his eye and a huge, ecstatic grin plastered on his face. 

 

He looks over at me and I just smile at the sight before me. Seeing him happy like this makes my entire life worth living. 

 

“You’re serious?” he asks. 

 

I nod my head and pull him in for a hug and plant a kiss on his cheek. “I told you I’d surprise you one day, didn’t I?” Ever since he was a little boy he would ask me when we were going to eat on the river. It was the most adorable thing. He literally thought that people got served their food on the river. As he got older he realized that it was an expensive restaurant where people ate; nestled under the Brooklyn Bridge, it overlooks the stunning New York skyline and the Statue of Liberty. He’s been begging me to take him here for years now.

 

It really is extremely beautiful here. There is a gigantic park full of exotic plants, trees, and flowers, which leads to The River Café. I laugh as I look over and see him with his new camera already out and snapping away at the beautiful sights before him. We’re getting closer to the entrance and I say, “Put that away for now; I don’t want us to be late for our reservation that I made months ahead of time. We’ll come back through here after we eat, I promise.” 

 

We make it to the entrance and it’s absolutely breathtaking. The River Café is written in green above two large, green double doors; to the sides of the doors are large trees and shrubs with strands of white and blue lights strewn in between the branches and leaves. I open the door and see more beautiful plants in the center of the lobby. There’s a young blonde girl with green eyes standing behind a dark wood podium that greets us with a cheerful smile and says, “How may I help you this evening?” 

 

“Reservation for Taylor,” I say. 

 

She leads us through a long, thin hallway and into the dining room. She seats us at the table I reserved located right in the center against the wall in the room. “Your waiter will be right with you, enjoy your evening.” 

 

“Thank you,” I say. I look across the table at Bryson and see that he is just in awe as I am. I can definitely see why this place is so hard to get into now; everything about it is absolutely stunning. The tables all have white silk tablecloths and a little dim light set in the center. The view is absolutely majestic; each wall has full-length glass windows giving you the perfect view of the city. I laugh as I see Bryson is gawking out the window like I have been; his big, blue eyes are gazing in wonder and I can’t help but think how cute he looks. 

 

I see a younger man wearing a white dress shirt with a black bowtie and black pants walking towards the table with two menus in his hand. As he places the menus down on the table in front of us he says, “Good evening, my name is Aiden and I’ll be your server this evening. May I get you something to drink?” 

 

I start to ask what kind of wines they have when I remember the hell of a headache that I had this morning and decide that water would be the best choice. I look up to reply and see deep, brown eyes speckled with light and dark green strands staring back at me and have to suck in my breath. Oh, God, I haven’t seen eyes like that since…

 

I quickly look back down at my menu and slowly exhale. I try to slow my breathing and steady my voice as I say, “Um, yeah, I’ll have a water, please. Bryson?” 

 

He just looks at me like ‘what the heck’ and says, “Uh, I’ll have a water, too, please.” 

 

“Alright, I’ll be right back with your drinks.” 

 

I look up and Bryson is staring at me with the strangest look on his face. “What the heck was that about?” 

 

“What are you talking about?” I say while trying to pretend I’m reading the menu in my hands. 

 

He takes the menu out of my hands and places it back on the table. “I’m talking about the weird schoolboy crush act you were displaying just a minute ago. He’s kinda hot; you should ask him out.” I start blushing and immediately curse my fair skin for always betraying me. 

 

I look up at him and make up the lame excuse that I had something in my eye and was trying to look down and blink it out. He just laughs at me and shakes his head as we both go back to looking at our menus. The waiter comes back and places the waters in front of us and asks if we’re ready to order. Bryson orders a butter leaf salad and an organic chicken breast. I don’t dare look up again as I order a butter leaf salad and a prime New York steak strip. Bryson starts talking about all of the different neat things that the camera can do and how he plans to incorporate its use into his art. I knew he talked about wanting to explore photography more and I hear the excitement pouring out of him as he explains how he is now able to do just that with his fancy new camera. 

 

When he goes to the bathroom I stare out the window and watch the calming blue water sway back and forth and see the thousands of lights displayed on the skyscrapers. All I can think about are hazel eyes. Of course no one could ever even come close to Brian’s perfect hazel orbs. No one could ever display the amount of emotions Brian has shown through his eyes. I’ve always believed that the eyes are the windows to the soul and Brian’s eyes were definitely that. He could always easily hide his emotions from me if I couldn’t see his eyes, but whenever I looked into his eyes he couldn’t hide anything from me. When I looked into Brian’s eyes I could always see the real him peeking through from behind the armor of the ‘Stud of Liberty Avenue.’ It didn’t matter if his eyes were smoldering with lust or anger, firm as steel and looking cold as ice, warm with love or happiness, or glazed over with fear or pain. I could always see straight into his soul. I could see the Brian that he tried so hard to keep anyone from ever seeing. Those beautiful hazel eyes weren’t just stunning strands of browns and greens. Those hazel eyes were never just eyes to me; to me they were where I was always able to see the man that I fell deeply and irrevocably in love with. 

 

A little while after he comes back from the bathroom the food arrives and we both dig into the delectable food in front of us. The waiter comes back a little later to refill our glasses with water. As we finish our food the waiter comes back one last time and I feel him staring at me as he places the bill on the table and says, “Can I get you anything else tonight, Sir?” Sir? Ouch. How the hell old does he think I am? Now I know why Brian was so touchy with the age thing. 

 

I know I shouldn’t but I glance up once more at the waiter’s hazel eyes, but there’s nothing there; his eyes are empty. He doesn’t have Brian’s eyes. No one does and no one ever will. I’ll never see the most perfect hazel eyes staring back at me ever again because Brian isn’t here. He isn’t in my life anymore; Brian is gone. I try my best to smile up at the waiter as I place my card in with the bill and hand it back to him, as I say, “No, that will be all, thank you.” 

 

I look at Bryson and I can tell he’s about to say something, so I beat him to it and say, “I thought we could go out on the balcony so you could take some pictures of the great view and then head out to the park so you could take some more there, too. Sound good?” I think he knows not to push it anymore and nods his head while smiling back at me. 

 

The waiter returns with my receipt and card in hand as I sign for the bill. He smiles down at me and winks before saying, “I hope you enjoyed your meal, gentlemen, have a wonderful evening.” I look down at the receipt and whistle; the total came to $250 including a tip; they sure as heck won’t be going out of business anytime soon. On the bottom of the receipt I see a wink face with Call Me- 917-347-1228 written in black ink. 

 

Well, at least I’ve still got it. He wasn’t too bad looking. I might have even given him a call if I wasn’t going completely insane, that is. As we head out to the balcony Bryson whips his camera out of his pocket and snaps pictures like crazy. He’s going to get some really beautiful shots with the moonlight casting down upon the water underneath the Brooklyn Bridge. He smiles a genuinely happy smile as he finishes up and walks back towards me. 

 

I smile up at him in reaction and reach up on my tippy toes to fix his collar. Jesus, every time I look at him I still can’t believe I could ever possibly create something so perfect. He has shiny blonde hair with strands of light and dark brown woven in giving him that dirty blonde look. He has big crystal ice baby blue eyes that make him look super innocent. He has gotten away with so many freaking things because of those eyes. And his smile! Oh God, it’s so big, bright, and stunning, and so reminiscent of what mine used to be. Sometimes when he smiles his lips quirk to the right a little and he looks just like he did as a little boy, especially when he blushes. I truly do have the world’s most beautiful son. He finally swats my hand away off his collar. He absolutely hates it when I treat him like a little kid in public. He gets so frustrated and embarrassed. As we return to the car, he snaps a few dozen more shots in the park and we make our way home.

 

We walk into the house just as it starts raining and I glance at the clock to see that it’s 8:30. Jeez, I can’t believe that it’s that late already. “Watchya got planned tonight, Brys?” 

 

He shrugs his shoulders and heads into the living room and plops down onto the couch as he says, “I thought I’d just hang with you tonight and watch some movies.” 

 

What the heck? It’s a Friday night; he should be out having fun on his birthday. What’s he wanna be here for? Then he looks up at me and I see it. He’s trying so hard to hide it, but I still see that glint of obligation flicker across his big, blue eyes. I’ve seen that look before and each and every time it absolutely kills me. He hates leaving me alone at the house and feels guilty if he does. I feel like such a shitty Dad every time I see that look in his eyes. He’s holding himself back because he senses that I’m lonely and I absolutely fucking hate myself for it. 

 

I sigh as I smile down at him and say, “Why don’t you go out for a little bit tonight, stud? Have some fun. What’s Emma up to tonight?” 

 

As he turns on the T.V. he says, “Em and I are going out tomorrow night.” He pulls up the corner of his mouth into a smirk and says, “Plus you still have to give me my other present tonight, or did you already forget about that, gramps?” 

 

I smack him playfully on the arm and turn around to walk up the stairs and say, “Of course I didn’t forget.” Okay, so I kind of did. Shit, I really am getting old. 

 

“Come on, squirt, they’re in my bedroom,” I say as I turn around and start my way up the stairs. He follows close behind me and flops down on my bed as I go to the closet and open the door. I pull out the wrapped present and walk over to him, playfully shoving him over so I can sit down on the bed next to him. 

 

He sits up and I hand him the present with a grin. He starts unwrapping it super slowly and I say, “Now who’s being the Grandpa? Can you unwrap that any slower?” 

 

He smirks and says, “I’m just trying to not tear apart all of your hard work. I can only imagine how long it took you to wrap this thing at your age.” 

 

“Ha-ha,” I say sarcastically. 

 

He finally gets it unwrapped and has his mouth wide open as he looks over at me. “Holy crap, Dad, thanks! The new iPad is supposed to be freaking incredible!” 

 

I smile over at him and say, “Well, I got it to go with the other half.” 

 

He looks at me with his right eyebrow slightly raised questioningly. I get up and walk over to my closet again as I smile. He’s going to freaking love this; it isn’t even supposed to be out on the market until Christmas. Having connections in the art world definitely has its perks. I tell him to close his eyes and he just snorts at me. I turn around over my shoulder to look at him seriously and say, “I’m waiting.” He rolls his eyes and says fine before finally closing them. 

 

I lift it up out of my closet and place it right in front of him. Damn, that thing is freaking heavy. Right when I put it down he opens his eyes and flies up off the bed screaming, “OH, MY GOD!” 

 

I laugh at him and say, “You were supposed to wait until I said open your eyes first. My God, you’re impatient.” He looks over at me and giggles like he did as a child. I haven’t seen him this happy in years. He runs over to me and slams his arms around mine with a tight squeeze as he whispers thank you over and over again into my ear. I smile and say, “You’re welcome, squirt. I kind of coordinated all of your presents this year. You can take pictures with the camera and it has the accessibility to wirelessly send whatever images you choose directly to your iPad. Then, as you already know, the iPad snaps onto the top of your new easel so you can paint and sketch absolutely anything you’ve captured on your camera and blow the image up on the iPad above your easel.”

 

As he pulls back he kisses me on the check and has a huge smile on his face and a cheerful glisten in his eyes. He looks me straight in the eyes and says, “I love you more than anything, Dad. You’re the best possible father a son could ever have; I hope you never ever forget that.” 

 

Oh, my God. I’m not gonna cry, I’m not gonna cry, I’m not gonna cry. I look back at him with eyes full of tears and pull him in for another hug as I say, “I love you more than you could ever possibly imagine, Bryson. You’re my world, and don’t you ever forget it.” As I pull back and look up at him I wish that I could freeze this exact moment in time and never let go. Because if there’s one thing that I’ve learned in life it’s that time changes everything and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.


	2. Distance Changes Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pivotal moment that led Brian and Gus to what their lives have become. 
> 
> An extra huge thanks to Kim on this chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think. Any and all comments would be extremely appreciated! (:

_Pittsburgh – Babylon – Brian’s Private Office Suite_

_Wednesday, June 5, 2013_

_7:22 P.M._

_“Ah, yeah, that’s it,” I groan as I grab his hair and start fucking his face vigorously. He starts gagging and pulls away as I roll my eyes. Christ, can’t anyone give a decent blowjob anymore?_

_He looks up at me with big, innocent, watery brown eyes while trying to catch his breath and says, “God, you’re fucking huge.”_

_I look down at him while smirking and say, “Well, I’m sure I can easily find someone that would have absolutely no trouble swallowing my cock if you can’t handle it. So get to it, or get the fuck out.”_

_He immediately grabs my dick and looks up at me as he slowly licks the underside of my cock from the base all the way up to the tip. He lightly swirls his tongue around the tip right before plunging down and taking me all the way down his throat. Fuck. He starts bobbing his head up and down as I grunt and push my hands into his hair and start thrusting in and out of his mouth, hitting the back of his throat each time. I thrust all the way in and hold it as I feel him moan around my dick. Shit, the vibrations on my dick from his moan feel fucking amazing. I throw my head back against the wall and feel my balls draw up and the tingly sensation traveling down my spine. I pull back and just as I’m about to push my throbbing dick back into his mouth the door swings open and I see Mikey come storming in._

_“Hey Mikey, come on in, join the party,” I drawl._

_“Jesus, Brian, don’t you ever answer your goddamned phone?!” he rants while throwing his hands up in the air._

_I look down and see the boy stare at Mikey and then back up towards me with a light flush creeping onto his cheeks. He starts to rise up from his knees before I put my hands on top of his shoulders and say, “Did I tell you to fucking stop?”_

_Michael starts pacing back and forth while saying, “Brian, there are things way more important than getting your dick sucked, for God’s sake!”_

_“Hold that thought,” I say as I start to shove my dick back into the trick’s mouth._

_Just as the guy starts opening his mouth to comply, however, Mikey yanks him up by his collar and the trick stumbles off to the side, off-balance._

_“What the fuck?” I growl as I put my dick back into my jeans and pull the zipper up._

_Only partly satisfied, I walk back behind my desk and turn to Mikey to retort, “Don’t you ever fucking knock first? What are you so worked up about? Did they kill off the Green Lantern now?”_

_The trick, who I had promptly forgotten, ambles up to my desk and tosses a piece of paper with what I’m guessing is his phone number scrawled across it as he says, “Uh…”_

_I raise my eyebrow and say, “Yes?”_

_He shuffles from one foot to the other a little uncomfortably as he explains, “Uh, yeah, call me sometime I’d really like a rain check for that fuck. I’ve, um, heard that your fucks are legendary.”_

_“They are,” I instantly reply with a smirk as I promptly ignore him. The nameless brunet finally gets the message as he huffs at me in disgust over my dismissal of him and turns around to stomp over to the door and close it roughly behind him, muttering under his breath. Rolling my eyes at his melodrama, I turn my attention back to Michael, glaring_

_at him over his interruption before I take a moment to really look at him and instantly notice his demeanor. There is a sort of desperation in his eyes and my blood instinctively runs cold. I have only seen that look once before – when Ben was in the hospital and close to death._

_Nevertheless, I try not to jump to conclusions as I scold him, “Stop being such a drama princess and tell me what the hell you’re doing here, Michael.” I look directly into his eyes and then see that he’s struggling to blink back tears. What the fuck? I feel myself starting to panic inside as I think of a possible reason for him being here and seeming so upset. Then it hits me, **Gus. Oh, my God… Gus…**_

_“Where the fuck is Gus?” I demand, holding my breath._

_“He’s fine,” he assures me as I let out the breath I had been holding. “He’s at home with Ben and JR watching a movie.” I notice him suck in a deep breath to steel himself. “Brian, something terrible has happened!” he blurts out before he turns around and starts pacing back and forth._

_I walk towards him as I place my hands on his shoulders from behind to still his agitated movement. “Mikey, what the fuck is going on?” I feel him stiffen under my touch and all of a sudden he turns around and bursts into tears as he clings to me with his arms clasped tightly around my waist. **Jesus, what the hell happened?**_

_I start lightly brushing my hand through his hair as I hold onto him. He steps out of my embrace and looks up at me with the saddest and most empty look in his eyes that I’ve ever seen. In between sniffles I hear him rasp out, “They’re dead, Brian; they’re both dead.” He barely makes out the words before he’s throwing himself into my arms again and is sobbing uncontrollably. **Both dead? What the fuck is he talking about? Who’s dead?**_

_“Mikey,” I say as I pull away from him. I grasp his chin and lift it up so his eyes meet mine. “Who’s dead? What are you talking about?”_

_His eyes glaze over with complete fear before he manages to choke out, “Mel and Linds. They’re gone, Brian. Oh, God.”_

_I sigh condescendingly before pulling him in for a big kiss on the lips. **There, that usually helps when he’s in full queen out mode.**  “Calm down; what are you talking about? Of course they’re not dead. They just left for every muncher’s dream vacation of women parading all around in bikinis and little hula outfits. Trust me, Mikey; Mel wouldn’t dare miss that shit.”_

_Instead of nodding in agreement, however, he grabs onto the nearest chair to steady himself as he slowly lowers himself onto it. He hunches over and holds his face in his hands as he starts shaking his head back and forth. I see his back heaving up and down as the tears begin to flow and he starts wailing, “Why, Oh, God, WHY?” in between sobs, and my previous conviction that he’s over exaggerating starts to falter._

_I bite my lip in confusion. **Maybe Ben knows what the fuck happened; Mikey sure as hell isn’t making any sense**. I grab my phone off the edge of my desk and hit my #2 speed dial to call Mikey’s home phone._

_On the first ring I hear Ben pick up and in a worried tone say, “Is Michael there?”_

_“Yeah, he’s here; what the fuck is going on?” I growl as I sink down into my chair._

_“He didn’t tell you?” he asks shockingly._

_“Obviously not If I’m on the phone with you, Professor! He’s a mess. He’s going on and on that Linds and Mel are dead, for Christ’s sake. For the last fucking time, what the hell happened?” I hiss._

_I hear him take a deep, shaky breath before saying, “It’s true, Brian; they’re gone. It’s been all over the news. Their plane crashed and there were no survivors…”_

_I brush my hand through my hair in irritation. “Cut the shit, this isn’t funny; I mean it.”_

_I notice Ben pause on the phone before he tells me quietly, “Lindsay and Melanie are dead, Brian. They’re not coming back. Michael saw it on the news and ran out the door to find you.”_

**_No fucking way. They’re not dead, there’s no way._ ** _“They probably didn’t even make it on the plane,” I tell him. “Christ, I bet customs held them back because of all of Mel’s fucking dildos. They probably forgot to take the damn batteries out so it sounded like a giant bomb,” I say with a laugh, but even to my own ears that sounded hollow._

_I look up to see Mikey hovering over me with his phone flipped open and I hear Lindsay’s chipper voice coming through the speakerphone. “Hey, Michael! Mel and I just wanted to call before we get on the plane and say thanks again for taking JR a week early this summer so we could be on our way to paradise! Oh, it’s going to be so beautiful, Michael! Have fun with JR; she’s been so excited to spend time with her Dada! Make sure Brian doesn’t undo all of my parenting with Gus before I can call and check in! Well, I have to go; our flight is boarding. Give Gus and JR kisses from Mel and me, God, I miss them already. We’ll call as soon as we land! Mel sends her love! Bye!”_

_Jesus, they’re really gone. I gasp in a deep breath. “I’ll have Mikey home soon,” I quickly inform Ben before hanging up. I feel like my heart is beating a million miles a minute and is going to burst out of my chest. As a painful lump stabs me in my throat, I can’t help thinking, **well, now I know I have a fucking heart, that’s for damn sure**. I feel tears prickling the back of my eyes and clear my throat as I stand up and make my way over to Mikey. I pull him in towards me and feel his tears soaking the front of my new Armani suit.  **Christ, what the fuck am I supposed to say? I’m not uttering out some bullshit like “it’s going to be okay.” It’s definitely not going to be okay**._

**_Oh, Shit. Gus. FUCK. What the hell am I supposed to tell him? What am I supposed to do? SHIT. Now Gus doesn’t have a mother; TWO mothers._ **

_I pull back from Mikey and put my hands on each side of his face as I say, “Listen to me Mikey, are you listening?”_

_He sniffles a couple of times before nodding his head and manages to reply, “Yes, I’m listening.”_

_“You have to be strong, Michael; JR needs you now. Think of what Linds and Mel would want. Be strong for JR, she’s going to need her Dad.”_

_He looks at me with red-rimmed eyes and whispers, “Brian, what are we going to do?”_

_“Have you called the airport?” I ask._

_He nods his head yes and says, “It goes straight to an automated message saying that they will be releasing a statement tomorrow morning.”_

_“Well, it’s obviously too late to do anything tonight. So, how about I drive you home, pick up Sonny Boy, and we’ll start taking care of things tomorrow morning? I’ll have Cynthia clear my morning schedule and we’ll go to Mel’s old law firm. I don’t trust any lawyer, ever, but I know there’s one of Mel’s old friends that will give a shit about what happens to her kid.”_

_He sniffles while wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and says okay. I grab my jacket off the back of my chair before I sling my arm around his shoulder and pull my keys out of my pocket to lock the door. We make our way down the stairs with a dozen or so hand grabs at my ass with the thumpa thumpa pulsing on throughout the night. In the midst of our turmoil, the world keeps turning round and round like it always does._

_It starts raining a heavy downpour on the way to Mikey’s. Thank fucking God I drove my new 2014 Audi R8 Coupe instead of the jeep like I was going to. I pull up in the driveway and park as I look over and see him gazing out the window._

_“Mikey,” I say. He doesn’t respond._

_“Michael,” I say again, more firmly this time as I grab onto his shoulder and shake him back and forth. He looks over at me like someone had just shredded his heart and ripped it into a million little pieces. Normally I would say something flippant to get past the moment, but this isn’t one of those times. This is serious; deadly serious._

_“Come on, Mikey,” I murmur to him. “Be strong for JR. Don’t let her see you like this,” I say while wiping a tear from his cheek._

_I place my forehead against his as I add, “Remember all those times when you looked up to Captain Astro when you were feeling scared or down?” He nods._

_“Well, Mikey, you’re her hero now, don’t let her down.” I say._

_He slowly sits up straight and wipes his eyes as he puts on his game face and nods at me while he strives to compose himself. I have no idea this time if my normal pep talk will work, but I’m extremely grateful that it does._

_We rush to the door and of course Mikey forgot his key to his own fucking house so we have to stand out in the pouring rain while the good ‘ole professor makes it to the door. My new Armani suit is already completely ruined from all of Mikey’s snot and tears and the sheets of rain pelting us, but for once I find that I couldn’t care less. My mind is completely focused on my best friend and my son._

_As soon as the professor opens the door I push my way inside, relieved to finally be out of the cold rain, although the dreariness currently matches my temperament perfectly._

_“Where is he?” I ask without preamble as I look around for my son, suddenly finding it of the upmost importance that I see for myself that he is all right._

_Ben briefly balks at my lack of manners before he reaches to pull Michael into a tight embrace, the two of them standing in the doorway and silently drawing comfort from each other as I search frantically for my son’s familiar face._

_Just then I see Gus and JR laughing about something as they make their way towards us, the carefree expression on their faces a distinct anomaly in light of what I have just found out has happened. The smile on my face that I plastered there just for my son falters just a bit as he looks over at me lovingly and my stomach churns, but I force myself not to look worried or concerned as he hurries up to me._

_“Hey Dad, this is a surprise. Did your boss fire you?” he teases me with an evil smirk so like my own at times. He studies my ‘drowned rat look’ as he adds dryly, “Does an umbrella go against your image?”_

_I smirk back at him and say, “I may have to rethink that strategy after today. Oh, and I AM the boss, Sonny Boy.”_

_I can’t help thinking as we stand here face to face that he is looking and acting more and more like me every single summer, and I briefly hope that he doesn’t turn out to be as rebellious as I was when I was a teenager. **Shit, now THAT is a scary thought**._

_He snorts and says, “Yeah, the drenched look isn’t too flattering on you.”_

_I smile as I turn to face his half–sister. “Hey, JR, you’re looking quite dazzling tonight,” I compliment her as I take her hand in mine and kiss the knuckles like some French nobleman. She starts giggling as she blushes a deep shade of pink._

_I hear Michael and Ben slowly walking up to join us, and for just a brief second I can see my best friend’s face transforming from grief into a more neutral expression as he smiles wistfully over at his daughter, his own thoughts no doubt echoing mine when it comes to Gus. How are both of us ever going to explain that their mothers are never coming back? How does one EVER explain something like that?_

_“Brian kissed me on the hand,” JR breathed out in awe like she was Cinderella and I was her Prince Charming. Of course, I have that affect on ALL women, no matter what the age._

_Michael nods and tries to crack a smile as Ben grips his shoulder from beside him and gives it a squeeze to offer his silent support._

_I smirk over at him before saying, “It’s not my fault the Novotnys can’t resist my unbelievably good looks and charm.”_

_Michael nods, trying hard to keep up a normal front for his daughter’s sake, but I know he’s struggling to hold back the emotional chaos he’s feeling inside. So I provide an out for him as I turn to Gus and ask, “Ready to go, Sonny Boy?”_

_Gus nods. “Yeah, let me get my bag and I’ll be right out,” he tells me as he turns around and starts running up the stairs._

_As I tell JR goodbye and she walks away in search of something to drink from the kitchen I pull Mikey in for one last big hug and whisper in his ear, “I’ll call you in the morning. Try to get some sleep, Mikey. We’re gonna get through this.”_

_As I pull away from him, I can see the tears glistening in his eyes as he nods in gratitude. With a curt acknowledgement to Ben, I turn to walk outside and wait in the car for Gus, my own thoughts a swirl of emotion._

_I crank up the heat and see Gus waving goodbye as he sprints toward the car a few minutes later, his long legs sliding into the passenger seat beside me._

_“Have fun tonight?” I ask as I begin to pull out of the driveway._

_He snorts and says, “If you call watching the Princess Diaries movies all night fun, then yeah, I had a blast.” I smile at him despite the circumstances as I turn the radio on and drive toward home._

_After several minutes of silence between us, Gus peers over at me intently, biting his lip in the way he always does when he’s concentrating on something. “Dad?”_

_I stare ahead out the window at the dark, threatening, roiling clouds swirling angrily above as I reply, “Yeah, Gus?”_

_“Is something wrong?”_

_I grip the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turn white as I swallow hard. How should I answer that? Yes, your world is about to come crashing down all around you? Yes, your life will never be the same again? Yes, the world really IS for shit sometimes? This will most likely be the worst night of his entire life. Hell, even I don’t know how to internalize what has happened yet. How the hell should I expect him to? There is one thing I know, though, for the sake of my son I have to figure out a way to tell him._

_I let out a long, deep breath before I'm able to speak again.  "Yeah," I advise him quietly as I glance over at him.  He turns almost sideways in the seat, his hands on his knees as he frowns at me.  "There **is** something wrong." _

_"What?" he asks over the din of the music playing; it's one of those songs that always sounds just like all the others lately – the same beat, the same tempo; even the same inflection in the voice.  "Did I do something wrong?"_

_Spoken like a true teenager, I can't help thinking.  Everything revolves around their world at his age.  I smile softly at him.  "No, Sonny Boy," I reassure him.  "It's not you; at least, not directly."_

_He squints over at me, puzzled.  "What do you mean, not directly?"_

_I know I can't do this in the car; it isn't the place.  "I'll explain when we get home," I finally tell him as I turn my attention back toward the windshield, the pelting rain making it hard to see through the wipers even at their highest speed._

_Gus frowns at me, his curiosity almost getting the best of him.  But he knows by now that I will only tell him when I am good and ready.  "Okay," he grumbles as I nod, relieved at least temporarily that I don’t have to tell him just yet.  Perhaps it’s selfish on my part, but for just a brief moment longer I want him to be spared the pain that I know I have no choice but to inflict._

 

 

* * *

 

_As we enter the loft a few minutes later, I rue the fact that I don't have a covered parking space to go with the outrageously expensive rent that I pay; both of us are thoroughly drenched to the bone and shivering from the cold rain.  I eye my son with concern.  "You'd better go take those wet clothes off," I tell him as he rolls his eyes.  I purposefully don't add what good ‘ole Joanie would say:  ‘Or you'll catch your death of cold.’ Somehow at the moment that doesn’t seem like a good thing to say whether I believe it or not._

_I could see him staring over at me with that unspoken question in his mind – what happened? – but he nods in agreement nonetheless before turning to walk over to his bedroom, disappearing a few minutes later into the master bathroom after grabbing his backpack of clothes from the top of the dresser.  Sighing, I walk over and sit down on the end of the couch to wait for him, trying hard to think of exactly what to say._

_This is the third summer that Gus has spent with me; it had taken a while for me to warm up to the idea of having my son with me 24/7 during his hiatus from school, but once I had tried it the first year, to my surprise I had discovered that I thoroughly enjoyed his company and looked forward to his extended visits._

_I am proud to say that my son is quite intelligent and inquisitive, as well as lively company, and we share a lot in common:  we both love sports, computer games and risk taking, for example, whether it's zip lining, rock climbing, or getting away from the city to let the pedal drop on the my new Audi to see how fast it can go.  Gus constantly calls me on my bullshit and doesn't pull any punches when he feels like I'm not being straight with him as well. Normally, I find that quality endearing and something to be admired; tonight, however, is different.  It is something to be avoided, to shy away from, but I know I can't.  Tonight will be one of the most difficult nights I can imagine – for both of us._

_My indecision as to how to tell him the awful truth is pushed aside as Gus comes walking back up to me then, his hair now only slightly damp after being dried with one of my towels that he no doubt threw down in a heap on the bathroom floor like he normally does.  He is wearing his favorite pair of plaid, flannel pajama bottoms and a faded, gray tee shirt as he walks over and plops his long form down onto the couch beside me.  A violent boom of thunder just then makes both of us jump and the loft's windows rattle as he grins in amusement over my reaction._

_"That one must have been a strike," he intones so seriously that I can't help smiling at him in response.  My favorite way of calming him down when he was little and so frightened of the violent thunderstorms that always seemed to pop up in late spring around the Pitts was to tell him that it was the Gods up above bowling and, of course, hitting a strike almost every time.  After a while, Gus had decided that it was actually pretty cool that even someone as powerful as a God would still need to indulge in sports, and ever since then it has been a sort of running joke between us whenever it storms.  How I wish that I could use a similar rationale right now to explain what I have to tell him.  But unfortunately this isn’t some mythological folk tale; this is real.  All too horrifyingly real..._

_My smile fades at the thought as I reach over to squeeze his thigh, taking a deep breath to steel myself.  "Gus..."_

_His expression changes to a worried one as he asks, "What is it, Dad?"_

_I lick my lips, wondering how to tell him.  As much as I still did not care for Mel, I know my son loved both her and Lindsay deeply.  This is going to hurt the same, no matter what I say.  "It's...it's about your moms, Sonny Boy," I finally begin softly._

_He creases his brow.  "What about them?  Aren't they having a good time in Hawaii?"  He smiles.  "I want to go there one day; I heard the surfing there is incredible!  Can we go one day, Dad?  Maybe just you and me?"_

_I swallow, the lump reappearing in my throat like a knife is stabbing me.  "Sure," I tell him with a tender smile as I press my lips together.  "Gus..." **Shit, this is SO hard!  Just fucking say it, Kinney....**_

_I take another deep breath.  "Come here," I request as I pat the couch cushion closer to me._

_I can see my son becoming worried now that something really IS wrong; it isn’t like me to normally be so 'touchy-feely' with him.  "No," he says, becoming more like a frightened little boy now.  "Just tell me what's going on."  He wraps his arms around himself almost like a shield as I decide there is no more avoiding the issue._

_"There...there was an accident, Gus," I begin tentatively as he stares over at me.  "The plane your mothers were in..."_

_"No..." he replies, a horrible thought beginning to emerge in his mind.  "No...they're fine.  You're wrong," he insists as his eyes start to glisten in dread._

_"No, Gus," I tell him with quiet resolution as I scoot a little closer to him, knowing there is no backing down now.  "It was on the news; it's real.  The plane didn't make it to Hawaii.  It went down several hours after takeoff...somewhere over the Pacific."  I had quickly checked my phone's web browser for the details while Gus had been in the bathroom changing, needing to find out for myself the awful particulars.  The Coast Guard had already discovered bits and pieces of the plane floating in the choppy, blue waters several hundred miles off the coast of Oahu; what had started as a search effort was now a recovery operation – for bodies.  There was no way there were any survivors, no matter how much my son – and I – might want to hope for that._

_"Gus...there were no survivors," I finally manage to say.  "They're gone, Sonny Boy."  I reach to grab his hand – to comfort him – but he snatches it away as he stands up, fire in his eyes._

_"No!" he shouts in disbelief as he stares down at me.  "No, that's not true!  You're lying!  You want me to stay here and not go back to Toronto!  That's why you're making this up!  You've always hated Mama!  Why, Dad?  Why are you being so mean?"  His eyes well up with tears as they begin to stream down his cheek as I stand up to reach for him.  He wants to bolt, but I don't let him as I pull him toward me and grab him in a tight, vice-like embrace._

_"No, Gus.  It's true," I whisper to him as he flails against me, fighting me.  But I'm too strong for him; I wrap my arms around his smaller frame and hold on tight, letting him struggle against me as he keeps shouting, "No, no, no, no...You LIE! You lie!" he repeats, almost as if by saying it over and over he could make it true.  But he knows; he knows I have never lied to him and I never will, even now.  Even though absolutely anything at all would be far better than the truth._

_"I'm sorry, Sonny Boy," I whisper against his ear as he begins to weep in earnest, soaking my wet shirt even further.  "God, I'm so sorry."  This is the first time in my life that I believe sorry is anything but bullshit because I truly am sorry. Sorry that I can’t protect him from this, sorry that I can’t bring his mothers back, but most of all I’m sorry because there’s nothing at all that I can do to take his pain away. God, I would do anything to take the pain away…_

_"No, no, no..." he continues to protest, but it's now more of an awful sort of realization rather than an accusation as he goes limp against me, the truth slowly beginning to turn to despair.  "Why?" he asks against my chest as his arms come to slide around me and I slowly rock him back and forth in my embrace.  "Why?"_

_But I have no answer for that._

_Later, as I cradle him in my arms in the bed, his head lying on my chest as he finally falls asleep, exhausted and depleted of all the tears he had shed for hours before, I look down at him and then rest my chin on his head to hold him protectively against me, closing my eyes and hoping that when we wake up it will all be just a bad dream._

* * *

 

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**_The next morning…_ **

_I’m startled awake by the sound of my alarm clock’s continuously annoying beeps and the sun shining brightly in through the window, just like nothing had happened the night before. For just a second, I hope yesterday was all just a hallucination, or a result of a bad batch of E that I consumed. However, as I open my eyes and turn on my side to see my son lying next to me, it all comes flooding back as a horrible reality. I slap at the clock to silence it before it can wake him and I stare silently over at him – so apparently unaffected and unconcerned in slumber – before rolling out of bed and scrubbing my face with my hands in an attempt to force my body awake, feeling the sunshine blinding me in its intensity._

**_Sunshine_ ** _. I laugh bitterly at the irony as I swing my arm down to pick up the bottle of Beam from the nightstand. The day is already for shit, and I’m so tempted to start chugging it down to just forget everything for a little while and fall blissfully into a drunken stupor. But as soon as I glance back over at my son, I slowly put the bottle back down, knowing today I have to be stone, cold sober._

_Towel wrapped loosely around my waist a few minutes later, I start my morning ritual of a shower and shave before spreading some toothpaste on my toothbrush and walking back into the bedroom to check on Gus.  I notice he's thankfully still asleep, only falling into slumber a few hours ago, undoubtedly due more to being mentally exhausted after crying himself to sleep than being physically tired.  At the moment I hate like hell to wake him – knowing once he remembers what had happened yesterday that he will be an emotional wreck again – but I know there are some things that have to be done.  So with regret, I creep closer and gently nudge his shoulder.  "Wake up, Gus," I quietly urge him._

_For just a second, he turns over and peers up at me drowsily with that same, familiar look he normally gives me when he's about to protest over having to arise at such an early hour, but then it's like a cloud descends over him as he recalls with startling clarity what I had told him last night and he realizes it isn't some garish nightmare.  "Why?" he finally asks me mournfully.  "What's the point?"_

_I sigh. For just a second, I want to give him the luxury of wallowing in his self-pity, of mourning what he has lost, but then I decide he needs to face what is to come.  Only then will he – will BOTH of us – be able to move on. "The point is, I have some things I need to take care of to do with your mothers today. And I need your help, Gus; I need you to watch over your sister while I take care of those things, okay?"  He stares over at me, indecision flickering on his face, before he finally nods._

_I reach down to lightly feather his dark hair before I tell him, "Now go take a shower, Sonny Boy; we need to leave soon."  I wait until I see him slowly stumble out of bed and head off toward the bathroom before I turn to get dressed, choosing an understated but well-made dark, blue Gucci button-down shirt, my favorite, black Armani pants, and a pair of black, Gucci loafers. Almost on auto-pilot, I meticulously groom myself, making sure no hair is out of place, before I forcefully ignore the bottle of Beam still tempting me from the bedroom nightstand and, instead, head out to the kitchen to fix a strong cup of black coffee, finding the almost scalding temperature of the liquid as it goes down my throat a few minutes later an effective anchor against my own emotions._

_As I wait for Gus to finish getting ready, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Michael’s cell number; Ben answers it instead, telling me that Michael and JR both had a night similar to mine and Gus’s and were still asleep. I tell Ben that I will be over there soon and that I need Michael to come to Mel’s old firm with me to begin the arduous process of sorting through what will no doubt be a legal tangle of convoluted paperwork. Thankfully understanding the urgency, he agrees to watch over Gus and JR for us while we’re gone as I hear the shower in the bathroom being turned off._

_I look up at the clock as I take another sip of my coffee and see that it’s a quarter ‘til 8. **Shit, I forgot to call Cynthia.**  I’m about to give her a call when Gus comes shuffling into the living room, his hair still damp and askew in a rebellious sort of way. Normally, my son is almost as much of a grooming diva as I am; apparently, today, however, he is uncaring about how he looks. As I gaze at him sympathetically, I couldn’t help reaching over and straightening the collar of his polo. “Hungry?” I ask softly as he shakes his head. I decide to not comment on the bleary, puffy look in his eyes as I nod._

_“Well, I need to swing by Michael’s to pick him up, and Ben’s agreed to let you stay there with JR while we take care of things today. I’m sure you can get something to eat there if you want. We gotta get going.”_

_I pick up my keys off the kitchen counter, along with my thermos full of coffee, and grab my leather jacket hanging over the chair before I hear Gus ask quietly, “How’s my sister?”_

_I turn to face him. “She had a rough night from what Ben told me,” I advise him truthfully, not wanting to lie to him. I never have and I never will. “But she’s asleep right now, and Michael’s with her. She’s going to be okay, Sonny Boy,” I assure him, not sure who exactly I was trying to convince, him or me. “You both will be.”_

_He stares over at me, the traces of tears appearing in his eyes as he replies mournfully, “Will we, Dad?”_

_I walk over and place my hand around the back of his neck. “Yes, Gus, we will,” I whisper fervently, putting all of my conviction into that assurance. “We ALL will.”_

* * *

_As I drive to Mikey’s I call Cynthia and feel myself already dreading the upcoming bitch fit I’m probably about to receive. Any other day, I would give as good as I got, but today – with my son sitting quietly beside me – my normal combative nature isn’t rising to its typical level._

_“Kinnetik, this is Cynthia speaking; how may I help you?”_

_“Hey Cyn, it’s Brian.”_

_“Brian!” she growls at me as I wince at the volume. I hold the phone away from my ear and catch just a glimpse of amusement from Gus before the veil of grief falls back into place._

_“Where the hell ARE you? You were supposed to be here 10 minutes ago! The people from Thinergize are waiting in the conference room right now and expecting you to walk through the door in 15 minutes! Please tell me you’re about to pull into the parking lot.”_

**_Shit, she’s going to flip_ ** _. I inhale deeply before saying, “Sorry; You and Theodore will have to make it without me.”_

_“What the hell?” she growls in exasperation, no doubt thinking I had been out carousing all night. “Tell me you’re not serious.”_

_"Serious as a heart attack," I assure her, forging ahead before she can let forth with another diatribe.  "I have something more important I have to do this morning."_

_I could hear her heavy huff of disbelief over the phone.  "What could be more important than a million-dollar account, Brian?  This isn't like you."_

_I pinch the bridge of my nose with my free hand, wondering how to explain with my son hearing every word beside me.  I know that as aggravated as my long-time assistant is, she will do as I ask and realize that I never ask her to do something unless I absolutely need her to.  "You'll have to trust me on this one," I told her quietly as I look over at Gus.  "I'll explain later when I get in, okay?  Just have Ted look over the boards and do the best he can."  It was quiet on the other end for a moment before I repeated, "Cynthia, do you hear me?"_

_She sighed.  "Yeah, Brian, I hear you.  I don't know what in the hell's going on, but I'll tell him.  And there'd better be a damn good reason for doing this at the last minute."_

_"There is," I assure her as my eyes lock on my son's.  "The most important reason of all."  I slowly flip my phone shut and take a deep breath before I pull up in front of Michael and Ben's place._

_I start to get out as I see Michael open the front door to meet me, but Gus reaches over and places his hand on top of my sleeve. “It’s okay, Dad,” he tells me, trying hard to sound grown up. My heart swells with pride as he asks, “What time will you be back?”_

_"How about I come back around lunch time and we go out to eat?" I suggest.  He nods before turning to exit, but I latch onto his wrist._

_"I'll see you then.  And, Gus..." I take a breath, still finding it hard to say even after all this time of being around him.  Somehow I need to find a way to say it more often, though, especially now.  "I love you," I finally manage to utter softly as he nods._

_"Me, too," I hear him earnestly reply before he opens the passenger door and scoots out._

_I watch him head up the sidewalk, receiving a sympathetic smile and a ruffling of his hair from Michael as they pass each other; Ben comes to stand at the door and nods at me as he smiles at Gus reassuringly and places his hand on his shoulder to lead him into the house.  I watch them go, thinking of how much Gus reminds me of myself when I was his age.  I wonder in light of what just happened how he will change now; teenagers readily wear their hearts on their sleeves, and act out in response to what they perceive as injustices.  Fuck knows I did my share of that growing up.  Lindsay, especially, had always provided a stabilizing influence on Gus; I wonder how the loss of her support and influence is going to change him?_

_I glance at Michael as he walks closer to me, noticing that he looks even worse than he did yesterday. His eyes are red-rimmed and puffy with dark bags set underneath them. As he walks over and opens the passenger side door to slide in beside me, I reach over to grasp his shoulder before handing him my thermos and starting the drive toward Mel’s old law firm. Fuck, I’ve only been up a couple of hours and I’m already ready to just drive to Babylon and drink and fuck until I pass out. What a day this is going to be._

_"It's just coffee," I assure him as he glances over at me questioningly.  Oddly enough, he accepts that statement at face value as he unscrews the top and pours himself a cup._

_The remainder of the drive over is filled with pure, awkward silence. I steal glances over at him from time to time during the drive, noticing this completely blank look in his eyes, devoid of all emotion. I still can’t fucking believe they’re gone… I inhale a deep breath between my lips, immediately shoving the morose thoughts out of my mind. Now is not the time to become all sappy and emotional. Someone has to stay strong and figure out what the hell to do for Gus and JR. With Mikey looking as if he’s already in the deep mindset of the mourning period, it looks like that person will have to be me._

_As I pull the car to a stop in front of the tall brick building I place my hand gently on Mikey’s thigh and say, “We’re here, Mikey; time to get it together for JR.” He takes a shaky breath before nodding as we both step out of the car and head toward the double glass doors leading inside._

_As we step off the elevator and onto the tenth floor a few minutes later, I’m instantly reminded of why I fucking hate setting foot in any law firm. These places are always packed full of the fake waspish, bullshit personalities that I abhor. How in the hell bulldyke Mel ever fit in at this place beats me._

_‘Sullivan & Wallace’ is written on the wall to our left in big, shiny silver letters as we walk up to the receptionist’s desk. A young, perky blonde who is fake from head to toe is talking on the phone in a shrilly tone that would make anyone physically cringe. She pops her gum as she hangs up the phone and looks up at me with a hopeful glimmer in her eye as she twirls the gum out onto her finger in an attempt to appear seductive. All I feel, though, is vomit pressing at the back of my throat. After sucking the gum off her forefinger suggestively she bats her eyelashes up at me and says, “What can I help you with today, sugar?”  **Fucking disgusting**. I look over to see Mikey huff and roll his eyes in barely-concealed tolerance._

_I look down at her and try to keep the pure disgust I’m feeling out of my voice as I say, “I need to speak with Amanda Miller.”_

_“Do you have an appointment?” she asks._

_I glance back over at Michael, both of us silently thinking the same thing. Appointment or no appointment, we aren’t leaving here without talking to this woman. Knowing I have to do whatever it takes to get in to see her, I lean over the desk with my arm resting on the glass top counter and gaze down at her nameplate before drawling in my sexiest voice, “Carly, is it?”_

_She starts blushing as a big smile stretches out across her face and nods._

_It takes everything I have in me to push the bile down my throat before I continue. ”I’d really **really**  appreciate it if you could tell her that there is a legal emergency regarding Melanie Marcus’ daughter,” I begin as I continue to give her my most smoldering gaze, which is hard as hell to do when her tits are staring me in the face and making me want to hurl._

_She bites her lip in deep thought – well, as deep as her thoughts can be for someone so shallow, that is – before she gets up from behind the desk and winks at me before saying, “I’ll see what I can do.” As she sways her hips back and forth she glances back at me over her shoulder before turning around, thinking she must be making me hard with desire. Quite the contrary, though; all it did is make my dick soft._

_For the first time in over a day, Michael looks over at me with amusement, our reason for being here temporarily forgotten as I shrug. “It’s a gift,” I explain, trying to lighten his mood just a little, if only for a brief moment. “They just get sucked in.”_

_He smiles at me then over the double meaning, bestowing a grateful look on me for my effort because he knows exactly what I'm trying to do, before the ditzy receptionist comes sauntering back to us once more, pointedly ignoring him as she eyes me hungrily.  Continuing to pop her gum and slowly lick her lips, she informs me, "Ms. Miller will see you now.  It's the first door on the left."_

_I nod at her, ignoring her look of disappointment over not being fawned over anymore.  "Let's go, Mikey," I urge him as we start to walk down the hallway; I can feel the girl's heated gaze on me as we reach a set of two double doors with expensive pieces of art displayed on the walls and cheap looking plants in various corners. The sounds of phones ringing and people discussing cases way too loudly behind their cubicles fill the air. I turn to the first door on the left to see a tall, thin, stylish woman in her early thirties with glossy red hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and wearing a navy pantsuit hurrying towards us with worry etched across her face._

_“Carly said there’s an emergency to do with Mel’s little girl? What’s going on? Is Mel here?” she says breathlessly as she looks around._

_“Do you have some time to talk privately?” I ask her quietly._

_She nods before gesturing us into her office and shutting the door. She walks around to sit behind her desk while telling us to take a seat. I take a quick glance around her office and my gay-dar immediately goes off. There’s sports memorabilia covering the walls, a pair of work boots hidden in the corner, pictures of what I’m guessing are her cats placed all over the place. There’s nothing a dyke loves more than pussy – feline and otherwise – and if that’s not enough proof, her mouse pad is a picture of Tegan & Sara, the ever popular twin sister lesbo band. Hmm… I wonder if Linds knew about Mel’s hot little redheaded coworker?_

_“Well?” she asks nervously as she tightly grips the side of her desk._

_I clear my throat as I return to the task at hand. I have a feeling she isn’t going to handle this well. **Just what I need an emotional Mikey along with a crazy, emotional dyke.**_

_“My name is Brian Kinney,” I tell her, “and this is Michael Novotny.” She nods silently as I go on to explain, “Mel used to mention that she used to come to you for legal advice regarding custody issues she was having a few years back with her daughter, JR.”_

_She nods again, frowning silently as she no doubt wonders what I am leading up to, before I finally get to the point.  "I decided to come to you first, before I discuss this with my own attorney."_

_She shakes her head in confusion. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kinney, but I don't understand what we're...."_

_I hold up my hand to interrupt her.  "I'm getting to that," I assure her._

_I peer over at Michael for a moment before explaining, "Michael is the biological father of Mel's daughter, JR, and I'm the biological father of Gus, her partner's Lindsay's son."_

_She nods with a smile.  "Yes, I've met all of them.  They really make a beautiful family."_

_I take a deep breath; perhaps I had misjudged this person when it came to her being a home wrecker.  "There's really no good way to tell you this...," I inform her.  "Lindsay and Melanie were in a plane crash last night on their way to Hawaii...and there were no survivors.”_

_She brings her hand up to her mouth in shock, her eyes wide with disbelief as I observe the beginning of tears forming. I hear her voice crack with pain as she wails, “Mel? No, Oh, God, NO.”_

_I look over to see Mikey’s lower lip quivering and tears glazing over his still puffy eyes. I reach over to grip his shoulder and squeeze it, wishing briefly that I had filled my thermos with Beam to dull the pain instead of caffeine.  I sit and wait silently for a while as she absorbs what I said and also to give Mikey a chance to compose himself as well. Eventually I feel his body start to relax a little as Mel's former co-worker wipes her eyes while she continues to sniffle._

_I take another deep breath before explaining, “I know this is obviously extremely difficult for you to process, but right now the children need to be put above everything else. I need to know what happens now legally. What do we need to do?”_

_She closes her eyes for a second as if to clear her mind and straightens herself up in her chair as she nods in agreement. “Yes, you’re absolutely right, the kids come first. Mel wouldn’t have wanted it any other way; I need to do this for her.”_

_I nod. “So, what happens now?” I press her, steering her back to the subject at hand._

_She reaches over to grab a Kleenex from a nearby box and blows her nose before offering one to Mikey and says, “Well first of all, I assume both of you are permitted to be with each of your biological children through an official visitation agreement?”_

_Mikey and I nod our heads affirmatively as she continues, “Well, in that case, if there are no court orders prohibiting the individual from being around the child, then custody will be given to the next relative that is willing to accept responsibility for that child. Because both of you are the surviving parents, then as long as you have proof that you are indeed the biological fathers through your name on the birth certificate or on the basis of a paternity test, then the full custody of your children should be rewarded to you.”_

_I see Mikey instantly burst into tears of relief while murmuring ‘Oh, thank God’ over and over again as I slowly begin to realize what is happening._

**_Full custody. Me, a full time dad. Holy shit. I can’t do this. I won’t allow Gus to be raised by another Jack Kinney. Kinney men weren’t meant to be fathers; Jack sure as hell showed me that. Gus deserves better. Who, though? Lindsay’s asshole parents? I don’t fucking think so; they aren’t coming anywhere near my son. If I don’t take him, though, they will be next in line for full custody. FUCK._ **

_I shoot up off the chair and walk over to the window as I run my hand through my hair. **What the fuck am I going to do?**  A sudden thought occurs to me.  **Mikey! Mikey and Ben can raise Gus and JR!**  I spin around and say, “Can the living parent choose to hand over their parental rights to a person of their choice?”_

_She scrunches her brow and looks completely confused as she taps her fingers on the desk, making a drumming noise before looking up at me and saying, “No, if the living parent refuses custody of the child then the next living relative will be offered custody.”_

_Michael looks over at me in stunned disbelief, instantly sensing why I was asking the question. “Brian, what the hell are you asking questions like that for? **You’re**  Gus’ father; he needs YOU!” he yells._

_I pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger before explaining, “No Mikey, he needs a parent, a role model, and that sure as fuck isn’t me.”_

_He shakes his head before walking over to me and places his hands on my chest while looking up at me and whispering, “Listen to me Brian, are you listening?” I roll my eyes before nodding my head. He continues on by saying, “You’re wrong, he looks up to you a lot more than you think. For God sakes, Brian! He walks, talks, and acts like you more and more every single day! He wants to be just like his Dad. Whether you believe it or not, you’re a great father who supports and loves his son more than anything else in the world! You can deny it all you want but you are **NOT**  your father, and you never will be because you give a shit, and unlike him you love your son and would do absolutely anything to protect him. He needs you to protect him now, Brian; do you really want Lindsay’s parents to raise him in a world full of hate where he will never be accepted or loved for doing what he loves, being who he wants to be, or loving who he wants to love? Do you really want him to grow up trying to constantly gain their acceptance, love, and support like Lindsay did? You saw how they were around her; do you want that kind of life for your OWN child?”_

_I feel my blood boil as I imagine Gus growing up in a world full of hate and lies. Lindsay begged for her parents’ love and acceptance until the day that she died. **Shit. He’s right… there is no way I’m allowing that to happen to Gus.**  I pull Mikey in for a tight hug with his palms still placed on my chest before releasing him to walk over and sit back down._

_“Can the next living relatives after me try to fight me for custody?” I ask with trepidation._

_Amanda hesitated. “Well, yes, if they can prove that it would be in the best interest of the child.” she replies._

**_Great, I’m sure they’d have no problem proving that. All the judge would see is a gay man with a history of sex, drugs, and a filed suit alleging sexual harassment, even if it WAS dismissed. There’s no fucking way they’re getting ahold of Gus, though. I’ll fight if I have to; I’ll do whatever it takes._ **

_I nod before asking, “So what steps do we need to take?”_

_She chokes up a little as she utters out, “Well, I’m sure there will be a full investigation held regarding the cause of the plane crash, so you will need to hire a lawyer to protect your children’s rights, because it is more than likely that the victims will all be receiving sizable checks. After the… after the um… bodies are identified and causes of death have been determined, normally within a few days’ time, there will likely be a hoard of attorneys requesting access to the deceased’s will and other legal documents. Once representation is established, your lawyers will then take the death certificates to the court and either provide a paternity test or a birth certificate in your favor. You will then be provided with a copy of the custody agreement for each of you to sign and finalize.”_

_I nod my head. “Thank you,” I tell her, this time with sincerity. At least I know where Michael and I stand now._

_I shake her hand before standing up to leave as Mikey thanks her, too, and prepares to join me.  Just as we are about to head out the door, she runs over to me and hands me one of her business cards before saying, “I… um, I mean… I know Mel and I were just co-workers, but I still considered her a friend, too.  Could you maybe give me a call to let me know when the arrangements have been made?” she asks while sniffling and casting her eyes down at her feet._

_I nod at her.  "Of course," I tell her, glad that I was apparently wrong about Mel doing the nasty with her.  I can’t really blame myself for jumping to conclusions, though; after all, Lindsay and Melanie have both strayed once before.  But for some reason, it still makes me feel relieved._

****

_I slip the business card into my pocket before I place a hand on Michael's shoulder to guide him out the door. Thankfully Carly is on the phone this time, so we're able to quickly sneak our way to the elevator. I look down at my watch and truly cannot believe that it’s only 9:45 A.M.; it felt like we had been in there for a lot longer than one fucking hour. I have a feeling this entire goddamn week is going to go by in tortuously slow motion._

_On the drive to Mikey’s the same thought keeps running around in circles in my mind. I’m about to become a full-time dad. If anyone told me that by the time I was in my forties- **forties** ,  **shit, when the hell did that happen?**  – I would have been fucking laughing in their faces, ask them what they were on and then ask if  **I**  could have some.  Brian fucking Kinney as a full-time dad; Christ, what the fuck is this world coming to? It’s my reality now, though, and my son’s. And I’m going to do absolutely everything in my power to become the father that he deserves._

* * *

_Pittsburgh_

_Friday, June 5, 2020_

_12:32 P.M._

_The rain began pitter-pattering against the windshield as I put the car in park and lean over to grab my reversible black-and-tan plaid Burberry umbrella. It’s ridiculously uncanny that this entire week has been hot with temperatures in the high 80’s and early 90’s, yet today is full of dreary clouds in the sky and rain pouring down all morning. I can’t help remembering that it is exactly the same as the weather on that night 8 years ago today, even though the rain has now diminished to more of a nuisance shower. Damn, I can’t believe its been eight freaking years since the day my entire world as I know it changed. Well, at least I have an umbrella this time… that’s most likely the only positive outcome today will bring._

**_God, I hate cemeteries. Why anyone in their right mind would want to rot in the ground surrounded by maggots and dirt beats me_ ** _. As I trench my way through the mud in my $1,500 Prada boots, I spot Gus in his brown leather jacket holding two bouquets of flowers in his hand, standing with his head down in front of their graves as the rain assails him. I’m not surprised, though; I predicted that the weather wouldn’t affect him in any way today. I somehow knew that I would find him exactly like this._

_I’ve never understood why people like flowers so much. They are given in relationships to show a person you care about or ‘love’ them; such utter bullshit. Flowers are actually a perfect symbol for a relationship, because they mimic each other. They each look extremely appealing and appear so promising in the beginning. They make you smile and feel happy until all of a sudden one-day they slowly begin to wilt and die. The relationships and flowers both end up crumbling to nothingness as they ultimately languish and wither to become a shell of what they originally were. The flowers begin to disintegrate and fall apart and end up being tossed thoughtlessly into the trash, while the relationship does much the same; except with that you end up being replaced by the next, best man to come along. I don’t see the point in investing time or money on something that is only going to die. I have far more important things to spend my money on, such as the new Armani Spring-Summer collection. Unlike looking hot in a new Armani suit, people and flowers do nothing but let you down._

_I walk up quietly nearby and lean up against a tree as I stare at the image that splits me in two every year on this day. Each year on the anniversary of their death Gus brings flowers and stands and talks to them for literally hours at a time. He’s tried to get me to talk to them saying they can ‘hear us’. Even if they could, what the hell am I supposed to say? “I hope you're in a better world? I hope you can see how grown-up your son is becoming?  I hope you didn’t wind up rotting in hell?"  Or, sometimes when I am feeling particularly bitter about how they left him so abruptly, I think perhaps I should just say,_

_“I hope you’re having a fabulous time in whatever hell it is that all dykes of the world end up in while your son is fucking standing here torn to pieces.”_

_As I watch my son fall apart each year on the anniversary of their deaths I can't help wishing that at least Gus would have had a chance to say goodbye.  I’ve never been good at comforting others in time of sorrow or grief, though; hell knows I’ve never had a role model to help with these types of situations.  My own parents were about as far removed from being compassionate as an executioner was at a guillotine._

_I pull out a cigarette from my pocket and light it as I deeply inhale. Fuck, I still can’t understand how it is that I’m standing here in front of Linds’ grave. It should be the other way around. It’s damn crazy; never in a million years would I have imagined this day. It still shocks the hell out of me that I ever made it past thirty. For just a moment, in my mind I can still hear Mel asking, "Death day cake?" at my thirtieth birthday 'celebration' before I watch Gus kneel down to place bright, yellow lilies on Lindsay's grave and red roses on Mel's, just like he does every year._

_I stub out my cigarette with the toe of my boot and walk up behind him just in time to hear him talk about leaving for college soon. Christ, I can’t believe he’s already headed off for college. Lightly squeezing his shoulder to get his attention without startling him, he turns to look at me with tear-stained cheeks and tries to turn the corner of his mouth up into a smile; it doesn’t quite get there, though._

_As he stands up to face me, I pull him in for a hug and feel his shoulders slump as he brings his arms up around my neck. His hands feel like ice cubes._

_I pull back and whisper, “How long you been out here today, Sonny Boy?”_

_He shrugs at me, his hair plastered to his face from the rain, as he casts his gaze awkwardly away from me._

_“Well, I think you’ve been out here long enough. Come on, you’re freezing,” I say as I try to tug him gently by his sleeve._

_But he rips his arm out of my grasp and rasps, “No! I can’t…”_

_“Gus…” I persist._

_There's a tense silence for what feels like an eternity except for the sound of rain hitting the ground as we stare at each other._

_All of a sudden I hear him just above a whisper gasp out, “I’m leaving them… Dad… I… I’m leaving them in a couple of months. I won’t be able to come and see them anymore… I’m… I’m abandoning them.”_

**_Fuck. He actually thinks he’ll never be able to come and ‘see’ them again._ ** _He starts sniffling and turns back to look at me. I have to suck in a breath when I see the look in his eyes. His big, brown eyes are filled with tears and he just looks so fucking… broken. He hasn’t looked like this since I looked into the eyes of that little boy and had to tell him that his moms weren’t ever coming back. I think I physically feel my heart stop beating in my chest for a couple seconds before I force the tears back and pull his body against mine, holding him tight._

_I don’t let go for the longest time as I pull back to place his face in my hands and say, "Listen to me, Gus.  You are NOT abandoning your mothers; that's nonsense. Do you hear me? You will be back all the time on breaks. In fact, you can see them anytime that you want. You just let me know, whenever, and I’ll make it happen, okay?”_

_He gazes at me through tear-stained eyelashes before nodding his head and quickly wipes his cheek in embarrassment._

_I peer into his eyes as I tell him, “But, Gus… you don’t need to come here to talk to them. They aren’t here, Sonny Boy, they never have been; it’s only their shells now. No matter WHERE you are, they will always be right in here, watching over you,” I whisper as I place my hand over his heart. **Christ, I’m turning into a lesbian.** But when I look at my son gazing back at me with adoration and gratitude in his eyes, I find that I don’t give a shit that it does._

_He forcefully grabs me and squeezes me so hard I feel like my lungs are about to collapse before he kisses my cheek and whispers back fervently in my ear, “Love you, Dad,” and my heart threatens to explode from the emotion._

_I squeeze back tighter and say, “Love you, too; Sonny Boy. Always.”_

* * *

Pittsburgh

 

Friday, August 7, 2020

 

11:19 P.M.

 

 

 

 

I swagger my way through the crowd of men, avoiding the usual hand grabs, number slips, and backroom offers. I make my way over to the bar and toss the numbers down onto the polished, wooden surface before I nod at Jimmy and he hands me my regular. Before I can even take a shot, I see Brandon sauntering his way over.

 

He pats me on the back and says, “Hot crowd tonight, G.” He smirks before adding, “Guess they all came out in hopes of getting one of your lucky fucks for the last time.”

 

I chuckle before taking a swig and say, “Now, now, don’t start getting jealous; there’s plenty for the both of us tonight.”

 

He huffs before saying, “The only thing I’m jealous of is you being able to get out of this fucking lame ass town.”

 

I grin before pulling him in closer to me by the shoulder so he can hear me better over the pulsating, electronic dance music. “Bullshit, you’ve been dying for me to leave so you could take the title of the official new ‘Stud of Liberty Avenue’ and you know it.”

 

He looks at me slyly like I read his mind and then shrugs before taking a drink of his beer.  “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure they remember your name for at least a week after you leave. Well, or as least as long as it takes for them to scream out my name at the top of their lungs and completely forget yours, that is.”

 

I chuckle and punch him in the arm playfully before saying, “Asshole.”

 

I’m gonna miss Brandon; he’s always been my best friend and total wingman. Dad was fucking pissed when he found out Brandon and I had become close, I already knew that they despised each other, and they still do to this day. I started coming to Babylon when I was 16 because dad said he’d rather know where I am instead of sneaking off somewhere else to drink and fuck.

 

Shit, I’ll never forget the day when I told him I was pretty sure that I was gay.  Instead of giving me a look of astonishment, he smirked at me with his eyebrow raised as he retorted, “No shit, Sherlock! You just now figuring that out? You ARE my son after all, you know.  Now go out and make me proud.”  I looked at him in amusement before we both burst out laughing over his response.  Ever since then, my Dad has been upfront with me about what I needed to do to protect myself, whether I was experimenting with getting high on the latest hit drug, keeping a constant vigil on whatever drink I had, or never fucking another guy without a condom.  Sometimes I bestowed this thinly veined look of exasperation on him when he gave me unwarranted advice, but deep down I loved him for wanting to take such good care of me. Not only could I not have asked for a better father, but I consider him a friend that I can always feel comfortable going to and counting on, as well.

 

Bringing my attention back to the present, I look over to see Aaron making his way toward me, his tan, broad chest and perfectly shaped six-pack glistening with sweat. He’s a little shorter than me, and pure Italian with beautiful tan skin, dark eyes, and wavy, black hair. Even from all the way across the room I can see his smoldering, dark brown eyes burning straight through me and going right down to my cock.  _Fuck, he’s so hot._  Definitely the hottest fuck I’ve had, and I’ve had a lot.

 

Brandon nudges me in the shoulder and rolls his eyes before saying, “Here comes #1.” 

 

I punch him in the arm as he laughs. He can be so fucking annoying when he wants to be. There are four guys I fuck more than once, and Aaron was the first. So, Brandon numbered them 1 through 4, more like their fucking  _things_  and not people with actual names. Brandon and I are alike in many ways. The major thing we have in common is that we would fuck 24/7 if we could. But the one thing we completely disagree on is our fucking policy. Brandon has a strict ‘one fuck only’ policy, while If I find a good fuck I’m not going to deny another round simply because I’ve already had him. That’s fucking ridiculous; I’m not one to turn down pleasure. It’s hard enough as it as to find a good fuck in the first place these days; I figure there’s no harm in repeats if the fucks are good enough to warrant it.

 

I understand the no repeat thing. Guys can get really clingy if you allow them to. I don’t have a problem with that, though. Everyone knows I don’t do relationships and I sure as fuck don’t do love. A lot of people think that makes me my dad because he doesn’t do relationships or believe in what people call ‘love,’ either. They’re wrong, though; the difference between my dad and me is that unlike him I know that relationships and love exist. He doesn’t believe in their existence, period. I KNOW they exist. I’ll just simply never be interested in experiencing either one, though. Loving and being in a relationship with someone only has one possible end result; it will destroy you.

 

In no time I take Aaron to the backroom and push him up against the wall before sliding on a lubed-up condom and slamming into him balls deep in one, fast thrust. He hisses at the abrupt intrusion. I wait for him to adjust a little bit before I begin pounding into him relentlessly. The thing about Aaron is he looks like a total top, all strong and buff. But when he gets a stiff dick up his ass he turns into a squealing, eager, bottom boy. One of the best things about fucking him is he usually tries to top from the bottom and fucks you back just as hard as you give. That, and he shares a kink of mine, relishing in a combination of pain and pleasure. Fucks with Aaron are always fast, rough, and hard without having to hold anything back, and it is exactly what I need at the moment.

 

He starts moaning loudly with his head pinned to the wall. I lean over while I swivel my hips in a circular motion, brushing his prostate with each twist and turn as I slowly lick up his neck and blow cold air directly onto it, enhancing the sensations between hot and cold and I feel him shiver in response.

 

I lean back and grab his hips, angling my own hips one more time, listening for the intense pleasure filled sound informing me that I’m hitting his prostate exactly right. As soon as I find the sweet spot I grab onto his hips harder and jab at the bundle of nerves profusely in short, quick thrusts. I feel his knees start to buckle indicating that he’s almost there so I hold him up with my fingers digging into his skin as I lean my head down and sink my teeth in his shoulder blade.

 

“FUCK!” he screams out as he arches his back and jerks his head backward before bucking his hips and slamming back into me. He starts fucking himself on my cock with every down swing in long, fast, jerking motions as he grunts from deep within his throat.

 

Fuck, I’m getting close. I reach my hand around to his dick and swipe the beads of precum dripping out with the tip of my thumb as he sucks in his breath. I start stroking his dick in motion with him fucking my cock as he yells, “SHIT! Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

 

I lean in against his ear and lick the lobe before whispering, “Then do it; cum for me, now.” I feel him tremble and the sticky liquid dripping down my fingers as he bellows out in complete ecstasy, “FUCK, OH GOD, GUS!” I feel his ass convulsing around my dick and cum in a deep, guttural groan.

 

“Fuck,” I gasp out as I pull out and peel the condom off. He turns around while trying to catch his breath and says, “I’m really gonna fucking miss that.” I pull him towards me for a light kiss and say truthfully, “You’re not so bad yourself; take care, Aaron.”

 

I pull a couple more tricks to the back room including one more of my repeats (or #3, as Brandon would peg him) for a few mediocre blowjobs and fast fucks. Before heading out I find Brandon and tell him I’ll text him to let him know about all the hot guys and clubs in the Big Apple. It’s still pretty early, but I decide to go home to pack and spend some time with my dad. He tries to act like it doesn’t bother him that I’m leaving tomorrow, but I can tell he’s really fucking nervous and worried about the whole thing. I wish there was something that I could do to let him know I’ll be fine, but really, no one can ever really know for sure. People die every minute of every day. Tomorrow is never guaranteed. I was forced to accept that fact a very long time ago.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pittsburgh

 

Friday, August 7, 2020

 

2:54 A.M.

 

 

 

 

I was gonna go out tonight but didn’t get home from work ‘til late because of taking the morning off to be with Gus. As I think about what is about to happen, I decide that the only thing I really feel like doing is lying back and smoking some good weed and finishing off a new bottle of Beam in hopes to empty my mind for a few hours.

 

I can’t stop thinking about Gus leaving tomorrow morning. I can’t really blame him, though; he needs to get the fuck out of the Pitts so he can be happy and make something of himself out there in the real world. It still doesn’t make it any less difficult to imagine him off in a city as monstrous as New York City, though; he probably won’t even come back once he gets a taste of it. Why the fuck would he?

 

The day I signed the papers to be Gus’s full-time parent I freaked the fuck out. That day flipped my entire world upside down and changed things immensely. But after awhile I got used to it and even began liking having my son to come home to everyday. It’s gonna be really weird when he’s gone. Gus became my number one priority and my entire world the day I became his full-time dad. As lesbianic as it sounds, when he’s gone there’s going to be a huge, gaping hole in my life. I can already fucking feel it.

 

I wake up to Gus pouncing on top of me and saying, “Come on, old man, time to help me pack.”

 

_What the fuck? I must have fallen asleep. Old man? Ohhh, no, you don’t._  I flip him over and start tickling his ribs. “Take it back,” I demand. He starts squealing and squirming to break free just like he did when he was little before shrieking out, “Okay, okay, I take it back, I take it back!”

 

”That’s what I thought,” I quipped with a smirk.

 

He rolls his eyes before he pulls me up off the bed by my arm and drags me into his room.

 

He starts throwing clothes into a suitcase as I stop and lean against the doorway with my arms crossed, my thoughts awhirl with what is about to happen. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to completely accept the fact that when I wake up every single day after tomorrow he won’t be here.

 

“What time’s your flight?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant even though I am far from it.

 

“It hasn’t changed since you asked me at lunch today,” he tells me with a grin as I roll my eyes at him. “My flight is at nine, Dad.”

 

Quietly I say, “Why don’t you just let me drive you?”

 

He sighs with barely-concealed patience. “Dad, we already talked about this. I’m flying. Don’t make a big deal out of it; people fly to places every single day.”

 

_Yeah, and they probably crash every single day, too._  I wish he wasn’t so goddamn stubborn. “I’m just saying we coul-“

 

He interrupts me by holding up his hand in a stopping motion and saying, “Are you gonna stand there and do nothing, or are you gonna help? I need that carry-on bag you said I could borrow.”

 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” I reply sarcastically.

 

He shakes his head in exasperation before saying with a grin plastered on his face, “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. Please?”

 

_Brat. He knows I fucking despise being called sir like I’m some old man._

 

I turn around and walk to my closet to pull out my black Prada duffel bag, and that’s when I see it crammed into the back corner. I drop the duffel bag and feel like I can’t fucking breathe as, reaching to retrieve it, I back away from my closet and lower myself heavily down onto my bed. I had forgotten that I had put it there…

 

I look down and stare at the framed sketch that I’m holding in my hands of myself asleep and sprawled out across my bed in the nude.  ** _Justin._**   _Fuck._  I feel like my heart is being squeezed and ripped painfully out of my chest. I close my eyes and see those bright, blue eyes and that radiantly smiling face peering back at me, so full of adoration.  _God fucking damnit, NO_. Placing the sketch face down on the bed, I get up and shake my head as if to dispel the image in my mind as I feel a major headache coming on. I'm tempted to reserve a night of full-fledged Beam drinking and weed inhaling to numb myself from the pain of both losing my son AND losing the only man that I have ever and will ever love, but as I hear Gus calling me, I know I can’t, not tonight at least. Not to worry, though; I have a never-ending amount of lonely nights of that to look forward to in the very near future. 

 

As I pick up the bag from where I had dropped it a few minutes earlier, I look up to observe him walking in.  He peers over at me curiously before inquiring impertinently, “What the hell's taking you so long, Dad?  Maybe you really ARE getting old."

 

I throw him the bag and say, “You’re welcome, brat.”

 

He laughs as he catches the bag and begins to head back toward his room, only to turn back around and rush back over to impulsively fling himself into my arms. He kisses me on the cheek and says, “Thank you. And dad?”

 

“Yeah?” I whisper in a choked-up voice.

 

“I love you. You need to stop worrying; I’m going to New York, not fucking Egypt.”

 

I squeeze him tighter and chuckle before saying, “I know that, you little shit. I love you just the same, though, Sonny Boy. I want you to know that no matter where you are or what you do, my love for you will always remain the same.” I place my hand over his heart before saying, “Along with your mothers I will always be right in here, no matter what. And I’ll always be just a phone call away.”  _It’s official, my son has definitely turned me into a lesbian, but I don’t give a flying fuck anymore._

 

He smiles and to my relief doesn’t make fun of my lesbianic moment as he replies, “I know, Dad. And no matter where life may take me you’ll always be a part of it. So, you need to stop freaking out and acting like we’ll never see each other again, okay? Don’t think I’d let you off that easy. I’ll be calling to check up on my little sister all the time.”

 

He stops and smirks before adding, “Besides, someone has to constantly remind you to start acting your age. And if I don’t, who will? Sir.”

 

I smile and feel tears forming in my eyes before I swat him playfully on the arm and pull him in for yet another hug. We just stand there for what seems like forever; time and everything else in the world simply forgotten.

 

I help him finish packing before he finally goes to sleep; he had almost been too excited, but eventually his tiredness overcame him and he succumbed to it. In the stark stillness of the early-morning hours, I walk into the kitchen and pour myself some Beam into a glass tumbler. As I stand in front of the window and take a sip I realize something. I fucking hate New York. It stole Justin away for good and now it’s going to take Gus away from me, too. It’s taking both of the only men I’ve ever truly loved.  New York may not be Egypt, but it sure as hell isn’t Pittsburgh, either. As far as I’m concerned any amount of distance away from Gus is too much, because over time distance can slowly but surely begin to change just about everything.


	3. One Chapter Closes, One Chapter Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin, Bryson, and Gus each begin a new chapter in their lives.

_Pittsburgh_

_Saturday, February 23, 2002_

_8:47 A.M._

 

_I am awakened by the sound of violin music as I start to stretch. **What the heck? Brian wouldn’t be caught dead listening to this.**  I slowly turn my head to see where the sound is coming from. As soon as I open my eyes I see Ethan standing fully nude in front of me as he plays his violin. Then it all comes back to me; I left with Ethan last night, I left Brian.  **Holy shit**. For just a second I wish that I could close my eyes and go back to sleep and ignore my new reality. But then I look at Ethan and see how happy he looks and I realize that it’s time to give him a real chance and move on; not that I have any other options now._

_“I promised I’d serenade you awake, didn’t I?” he says as he walks over to me._

**_Maybe he really can make me happy in time, at least he really wants to, and that’s enough for me._ ** _So I smile up at him before he leans down on top of me and starts kissing me._

_“You also promised me breakfast in bed,” I remind him._

_“Ah-ha,” he says as he reaches over and grabs a silver platter with a single red rose and four dark chocolates on it._

_I can’t help but to laugh a little at that. **God, he’s so cheesy, but in a good, romantic sort of way and that’s exactly what I want.**_

_“Dark, chocolate,” I say as I take one off the tray._

_“Is there any other kind?” he asks playfully as I lick a little chocolate off the tip of my finger._

_He wraps his hand around the back of my neck to pull me closer as he looks deep into my eyes and says, “I can’t believe that you’re finally here. That we actually spent the entire night together.” He smiles like he is the happiest man on earth before pulling me in for more kisses. **Yeah, I can’t believe it, either…**_

_“I’m here, but I can’t stay,” I say as I get up off the bed._

_“Ugh,” he complains as he rolls onto the bed._

 

_“I have to go to class, to work. Oh, I also have to pick up my stuff,” I explain as I pull on my jeans._

_“What if he’s there?” he asks._

_“What if he is? I don’t care. I’m with you now,” I say, hoping that I sound convincing enough to cover up the completely opposite emotions I feel swirling around inside me._

_God, I hope he isn’t there. It will be hard enough as it is to have to set foot back in the loft after what I did. I can only imagine how much he fucking hates me by now, and the things he would say to me. Actually, no, he would probably just completely ignore me like I’m nothing. Because that is what I am to him now and that would kill me even more than last night did._

_Last night he couldn’t mask his emotions at first and I caught a glimpse of what he was really feeling. However, today he would have his emotions completely blocked and under control. He would have no trouble treating me as if I’m nothing more than a trick. And seeing that cold look in his eyes that I mean absolutely nothing to him would be far worse than seeing the pain and disappointment I caused last night. Because at least then I meant enough to him to be able to even cause a reaction. Being given the cold, hard, and empty look he gives all the other meaningless tricks would cause my heart to shatter in a million, tiny pieces and I truly don’t know if I could ever manage to fully bounce back from that._

_Apparently I’m convincing enough because he reaches over and grabs the rose on the tray before smelling it and reaching up to hand it to me. Great; that makes me feel even worse. Really, though, what am I supposed to say? ‘Well, Ethan a part of my heart is always going to love Brian and no one will ever even come close to comparing or replacing the spot he holds, but he doesn’t want to be with me; we can’t be together. So, I decided to finally give you a chance?’_

**_God, I’m such a shitty person._ ** _Look at him, doing what he promised and waking me up to him playing his violin, giving me breakfast in bed, and now he’s giving me a rose. Jesus, he’s practically glowing with happiness in doing little romantic things in hopes of making me happy. It’s time for me to really give this a shot and put everything else behind me. The past is the past. Ethan is my present and he deserves to be treated as such. It’s only right that I give him my undivided attention and affection from now on. I kneel on the bed in front of him and he starts kissing me passionately as I lean him back down onto the bed to show him how much I appreciate what he’s done for me and how much he cares. He deserves to be happy, too._

_A few heated kisses later I realize this is on its way to leading into much more if I don’t stop it. “I have to go, you’re gonna make me late,” I explain as I give him one last peck on the lips before pulling away and starting to get up._

_He pulls me back down by my arm before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulls my body in closer to him. As he runs his fingers through my hair he just sits there and gazes at me with pure awe. I smile at him before softly asking, “What?”_

_He bites his bottom lip and starts running the tips of his fingers gently across my cheek. He looks so nervous and I feel myself starting to absorb his nerves the longer he looks at me without saying a word. I finally decide to break the ice and whisper, “What are you thinking about?”_

_He pulls himself up and leans against the wall directly behind the bed. He grabs my hand and places a gentle kiss on top of my knuckles before holding it firmly against his heart. Okay, now I’m really starting to get nervous… I see him take a deep breath before looking at me and saying, “When you imagine the life of your dreams, what does it look like?”_

_Okay… why is he so freakishly nervous about asking me about my dream life? I sit up straight and lean up against the wall next to him. Smiling softly as I look him in the eyes I say, “Hmm… I guess I’ve never really put too much thought into the life of my dreams. My main focus has always been to work towards creating a happy future for myself. I guess my idea of the perfect future would be gaining constant new inspiration and knowledge to incorporate into my artwork during the day before coming home and ending each and every day with the people that I love, which I hope includes a husband and children one day.”_

_A huge smile spreads across his face and he’s looking at me as If I’m some dreamy model or something. **Uh-oh, I just said husband and children… I can only imagine the thoughts occupying his mind right now. Shit.**  I start opening my mouth to try and get his mind off what I just said, but before I can get anything out he places his index finger directly over my lips and whispers, “Shh, I have something to tell you.”_

_He begins softly stroking my hand back and forth with his thumb as he admits; “I initially went to Babylon last night to tell you goodbye.”_

_“Goodbye?”_

_He shakes his head with a smile on his face before saying, “If you let me get more than a few words out at a time, I could explain it to you. May I continue?”_

_I roll my eyes and sigh before smiling playfully and saying, “I suppose.”_

_He laughs and says, “As I was saying, I was going to tell you goodbye last night, but when I saw you I just had to try one last time. I didn’t expect you to actually… well… leave with me.”_

_He looks away and smiles as if he’s remembering the details of last night before returning his gaze to me and leaning in to gently tug at my bottom lip. “Remember how I told you about the Heifitz competition I was preparing for?”_

_I nod my head._

_“Well, the competition was on Wednesday and afterwards this guy came up to me and said he was interested in representing me!”_

_I pull him in for a hug before saying, “Oh, my God! Ethan, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”_

_“Well, I couldn’t have done it without you. The entire time I imagined I was playing for you; a musician is nothing without their muse.”_

_I roll my eyes before smacking him playfully on the arm and saying, “You would’ve done just as great without having any muse at all and you know it.”_

_He smirks and says, “Yeah, I WAS incredible, but those incompetent asshole judges had their minds made up before I even set foot on that stage! Anyway, I went out for a drink with the guy after the competition and he said that I’m just what he’s looking for! Can you believe it? It’s finally happening; I’m finally being seen for the unique talent I possess! His talent agency is located in New York and he said he could get me tons of gigs and opportunities. This is it, Justin, my career is officially going to begin!”_

**_Wow. Wait a minute, he said he was coming to say goodbye to me last night. He’s moving to New York. He’s leaving. I left everything to end up being completely alone. Of course he wouldn’t give a shit about what happens to me as long as he could walk out with his prize last night in front of everyone before ditching me for his career. I can’t fucking believe this._ **

_I try to withhold as much anger as I can as I ask, “So, when are you leaving?”_

_He takes both of my hands in his. I can feel his hands shaking before he locks eyes with mine and gives me one of the most serious and penetrating stares I have ever received. I see him inhale a shaky breath before slowly releasing it and saying seven words that literally took the breath directly from my lungs. “I want you to come with me.”_

_I exhale and start to laugh as I pull my hands from his grasp before standing up._

**_Okay, he’s joking, he HAS to be joking…_ ** _But then I look into his eyes again, and I know that he’s far from joking. He looks so completely dejected. I sigh before sitting back down and placing my hands on each side of his face before whispering, “Ethan, you know I can’t go to New York with you.”_

_He slowly shakes his head side to side before saying, “Why, Justin? You yourself said that your perfect future includes gaining nonstop inspiration and knowledge to put into your work. New York holds an infinite amount of inspiration that is home to some of the most talented and successful artists in the entire world. You deserve to be a part of that world, Justin. You deserve the future of your dreams, and this is your opportunity to work your way towards building just that.”_

_“Ethan, there’s more to it than simply what I want. Even if I wanted to go with you I couldn’t. I have school, I have absolutely no money…”_

_“Alright, let me ask you this. Would you rather be at school or doing what you love and creating beautiful art every single day? You could get an agent with the agency I’m with now. They have an apartment building that is reserved specifically for the people they represent with super cheap rent. We could both start making a living by doing what we were born to do, and all while creating the future of our dreams together. What more could anyone possibly want?”_

**_That would be absolutely incredible. He does sort of have a point… why should I stay in school and be taught how I should draw or paint when I could already be creating and doing what I want for a living in New York? What about my family, though? I mean… I know all I have is Mom and Molly but still, I would probably never get to see them._ **

****

_I sigh and say, “Ethan, of course that would be incredible… who wouldn’t want to do what they love daily? What about my family, though? I can’t just leave.”_

_He ruffles my hair and says, “Well, there are these things that people can use when they aren’t living in the same place called phones, webcams, and of course trains, planes, and cars… ever heard of them?” I roll my eyes and he chuckles before saying,  “You really ARE blond, aren’t you?”_

_I smack his arm before laughing and saying, “Fuck you.”_

**_I’m running out of reasons not to go… I mean God; living in New York would be absolutely incredible. Plus, what’s the point of wasting money on school when I can be out there living in the art world? Oh, shit, money… Brian is paying for school… how did I not think of that before now?! I sure as hell can’t afford it and now that Brian and I- …really, there truly isn’t anything left for me in Pittsburgh anymore. Brian is the only thing left I can think of that is keeping me here. Now that it’s… over…  I think it would be better for me to just leave this life behind me and completely wipe the slate clean and start over; a new life in a new city with Ethan._ **

****

_I look at him and nod once before saying, “Okay.”_

_“Okay… what?” he inquires with his eyebrows slightly raised._

_“Okay, New York, you and me. Let’s do it.”_

_He gets the goofiest, childlike grin on his face before saying, “You’re serious?”_

_I smile and say, “Why not?”_

_He immediately attacks my mouth and I can feel him smiling against my lips. I slightly push on his chest to get a breath in and say, “Okay, now I’m REALLY going to be late! I gotta go get everything ready to leave! I’ll be back after my shift at the diner and maybe we can go somewhere for supper to celebrate before packing all night long, okay?”_

_“Sounds good to me. I have other things planned besides packing tonight, though. You better be ready for a long night.”_

_He smacks my ass as I get up from the bed and I turn my head over my shoulder as I wiggle my ass and say, “Oh, I’m always ready. The real question is, are YOU ready? You better prepare your ass for a surprise tonight, Mr. Gold.”_

_He smirks and smiles smugly. **Ohhh, so he thinks I’m kidding… he’ll be in for a big surprise tonight, that’s for sure.**_

****

****

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_**Later that Same Day…** _

 

 

 

_I pull off my gloves as I make my way to the main office. **Fuck, I can’t even feel my freaking fingers; they feel like they’re frozen solid.**  I enter the main office and ask for whom I need to talk to about dropping out and stopping payments. The nice, elderly lady at the desk with grey hair gives me a disappointed glance before giving me directions to the student accounts office. I walk down the long hallway and open the door that has ‘student accounts’ written in black letters across the top._

_I walk up to a younger woman with long brown hair and cold, dark brown eyes. She looks up at me with her eyebrows raised while she puts absolutely no effort into hiding the fact that she obviously hates her job and is bored out of her mind._

_I take a deep breath before saying, “The secretary at the main office sent me here to get a form to fill out in order to drop out.”_

_“Name?” she huffs out in an irritated, scruffy tone._

_“Justin Taylor.”_

_She pulls the drawer out from underneath her desk and pulls out a clipboard with a few pieces of paper._

_She sighs before handing me the clipboard and pen and says almost on autopilot, “Alright, you need to fill these out. Make sure to include if you need immediate termination or if you want to finish out the rest of the semester. Once you get everything filled out you will be receiving a letter in the mail within the week to notify you that you are no longer enrolled. All current payment schedules will stop at the end of the semester in which the termination to be in effect.”_

_“Thank you,” I say politely, trying to hide my disdain over her attitude. She grumbles before turning her attention back to her computer. I walk towards the set of chairs against the far wall and begin the task of filling out the pages that will begin the official change in direction my life is taking. These sheets of paper are inevitably changing the course of my entire life; who knew that a few pages could hold such power?_

_After filling out question after question, I finally come across the final one asking for the current address for a letter to be sent to in order to confirm that payments will be stopped. Shit… why does Brian have to be notified at all? He probably wouldn’t even realize the little amount of extra money being present in his account each month. Maybe I can request that a letter not be sent because it isn’t necessary._

_I walk back up to the desk and she continues typing as if she’s trying to avoid me. I clear my throat to let her know I’m not going away and she pauses her fingers on her keyboard, looks up with an exasperated look on her face and huffs out, “Yes?”_

_“Can I request that a letter of notification not be sent to the person who is currently paying tuition?” I ask._

_“No, if you aren’t the individual currently paying for your tuition you have no control over that.” she explains._

_She pulls up something on her computer and I see her face transform into an image of complete irritation before she raises her eyebrow at me in confusion. “I don’t understand why you are even asking that question. Your account clearly states that your tuition is paid in full for the next four years.”_

_I stare at her with my mouth wide open before saying, “What? What are you talking about? Of course it’s not paid in full… you must have pulled up a different account by mistake.”_

_She rolls her eyes and says, “You said that your name was Justin Taylor; is that not you?”_

_“Yeah, that’s me but... I don’t understand… does it… um… say who supposedly paid?” I ask._

_She clicks her mouse a few times before saying, “Nope, they wanted to remain anonymous.”_

**_Brian… of course it has to be him… the only person I know who would do such a thing or even be capable of doing this is him. Goddamnit, Brian…_ **

_I try to control the impending frustration I feel pumping through my veins before saying, “Will the individual be refunded in full?”_

_She nods her head and says “Yep, it takes a couple of weeks to process, though.”_

_I hand the clipboard full of papers and pen back to her and stand there completely lost in thought. **Thank God I’ll be living in a different city tomorrow; I do NOT want to be around when Brian gets the letter informing him of what he will most likely assume to be a failure on my part.**  It’s going to be hard enough having to deal with Mom’s disappointment and disapproval. By the time Brian receives the letter I will be long gone and thankfully able to avoid the harsh glaze of dissatisfaction and anger I know will be apparent in his eyes as he acknowledges what I’ve done._

_I think this will be the first time Brian won’t feel good about receiving a sizable check in the mail. I have to admit, though; not having to be yet another person that relies on Brian for money each month feels like a heavy burden is being lifted off my chest. Even though I’ve always planned on paying him back, I still hated the fact that I was another person depending on Brian for something other than just being a wonderful part of my life. I still always felt just like everyone else who uses him, except I don’t think they even realize that they’re doing it. I felt like I was using him every single time I set foot in my classes and realized who made it possible that I was there to begin with. It may take me awhile, but I still fully intend to pay back every last cent that he lent to me with interest if it’s the last thing I ever do._

_I refuse to treat Brian as if he were nothing more than a helping hand like most everyone else in his life does, because he means way more than that to me, and he always will. He changed my life and I know for a fact that no matter where we are or who we become I will never forget the man who changed my entire life and taught me a feeling that some people go a lifetime without ever experiencing and that feeling is love._

_I am pulled back to reality as I hear the woman clear her throat and sneer, “Is there something else I can help you with?”_

_I put on the biggest smile I can manage, which I’m sure others would deem my full on ‘sunshine’ smile before replying cheerily, “Nope, thank you so very much for all of your help, have a wonderful day!”_

_As I walk out the door I hear her mumbling under her breath and laugh; my mother always taught me to kill people with kindness. Now off to the diner; I hope to God Debbie isn’t working the morning shift today. She always knows when something is up with me. It’s impossible to hide anything from her. Now that I think about it it’s really freaking creepy…_

 

 

* * *

 

 

_I feel the harsh chill of the wind whip across my face as I step off the bus. I pull my coat closer together and wrap my arms tightly around my chest as I begin to rush across the street. I look up and see the little rainbow flags waving back and forth from the wind and then look around as I’m making my way closer to the diner. I feel so much love surrounding me. From people smiling and laughing to couples kissing and holding hands, I can’t help but feeling as if I’m home. I start to slow down my pace as it occurs to me that this is the last time I will set foot on Liberty Avenue in who knows how long, if ever…_

_I still remember the very first time I ventured onto Liberty Avenue… My God I was so terrified and overwhelmed, yet so excited and intrigued all at once. I would’ve never imagined that just around a year later I would feel such a sense of home whenever I set foot on this street. I have so many memories here… this is where I truly began discovering and creating myself. Not to mention this is where I saw the first glimpse of ‘the face of God’ underneath that lamppost so many nights ago. Before that moment I had never felt my heart beat as fast as it did. I literally thought it was about to jump right out of my chest. For as long as I live, I’ll never forget the intense and emotionally breathtaking moment that his eyes locked with mine._

_I open the door to the diner and begin to desperately hope to God that Debbie isn’t here. I know she’s working the lunch shift today, but it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she was covering the morning shift for somebody like she does all too often. I take a deep breath as I close my eyes and wait for the loud screech of “Sunshine!” reverberating throughout the diner. After about five seconds I slowly open my eyes and release a sigh of relief as I realize that I’m officially in the clear and have nothing to worry about. I walk up to the counter just as Kiki is making her way towards a booth with a plate filled with an omelet and two pieces of bacon on the side._

_After placing the plate on the table she flattens the fabric of her apron before turning around and saying, “Justin, what are you doing here? I thought you were working the lunch shift with Deb today, Sweetie?”_

_I stare down at the counter and start picking at a spot of dried ketchup with my fingernail. I look up and try to lift the corners of my mouth into a soft smile before saying, “I realize this is really short notice, but I was hoping you could fill in for me today.”_

_I think she can sense something isn’t right; I never miss work. She walks closer to me and rests her hand on top of my shoulder before whispering, “Of course I can… are you... okay?”_

_I bite my bottom lip before managing to nod my head yes and explain, “Thanks, Kiki, and yeah, yeah, I’m fine… I just… I no longer need this job, so… I’m quitting.”_

_She gasps before squeezing my shoulder and smiles at me, “Oh my goodness, that’s great, Justin! I’m so happy for you! The customers sure as hell are gonna miss that cute bubble butt of yours around here, though!” She laughs before continuing, “Your ass brings in more customers than even the lemon bars can manage, Honey.”_

_The cook rings the bell repeatedly and yells, “KIKI! Order’s up!”_

_She turns her neck and screams, “Alright already! Don’t get your panties in a twist! A lady can only walk so fast in a pair of fabulous new heels. And you’re about to feel the point of my new heel up your fat, hairy ass in about five seconds if you don’t lay off that freaking bell!”_

_I chuckle as she turns back to me and says, “Well, I hope I see you around! I really gotta get going; lots of hungry boys to feed, if you know what I mean.”_

_She winks before starting to turn back around and I say “Kiki?”_

_“Hmmm?” she asks as she turns her head over her shoulder._

_“Umm… tell… tell Debbie that I said goodbye.”_

_“Oh, of course, Sweetie!” She pauses for a moment before she adds softly, “She’s going to miss you. We all are.”_

_I swallow the lump in my throat; I’m going to miss everyone, too. “Me, too,” I admit to her as she nods and turns around to walk over to the kitchen pass-through._

_I step out of the diner and inhale a deep breath full of icy, cool air and feel myself shiver as it fills my lungs. I wave for a cab and feel grateful that I get one as fast as I do so I don’t have to walk._

* * *

_Well, that went better than I expected it to… Kiki obviously thinks I’ve simply found a better job or something and didn’t even fully comprehend why I would tell Debbie goodbye right away… Thank God for the diner being busy this morning to distract her from thinking too much._

_As the cab pulls away from the curb, the shitty feeling of how I’m leaving people is seeping its way into my mind. I contemplated leaving a letter for Debbie instead of just having someone tell her goodbye for me. But then when I thought about what I should say I decided there was no easier or better way to say goodbye. There’s absolutely nothing I could possibly say to even begin to thank her for everything that she’s done for me._

_I’m not even leaving anyone else with a goodbye… It’s better this way, though. They will be better off the sooner that they forget I even existed. Now that things are through with Brian and me, it would be completely awkward between everyone anyway; what would they want with me now? Soon enough I will be remembered as nothing more than one of Brian’s tricks that simply stayed around a little while longer. Someday they won’t even remember my name… but that is the way it should be. I don’t want to inflict any more useless drama or sadness into their lives. They will all be better off if I simply leave and sever all ties completely. I’m doing what is best for all of them; they’ll realize that eventually._

_The cab stops in front of the loft and I just feel like telling the cab driver to take me back to Ethan’s instead; fuck my stuff. But then I remember all of my sketchbooks… and I just can’t part with some of the sketches they hold. After all, I’ll probably never be able to draw like that again… So, I pay the driver and quickly enter the building and run up the stairs before stopping to close my eyes and attempting to clear my thoughts._

_I knock on the door and slide the large, metal door open in one swift pull and say “Brian?” as I slowly creep into the loft. I call his name again as I look around. The same thought keeps replaying in my mind over and over; **please, please, please, don’t be here.**  Once I realize that he’s not here, I spot my clothes hanging over the couch and quickly walk over and start stuffing them into my duffel bag.  **Okay, get in and get out as fast as possible, I can do this.**_

_Just as I finish stuffing my jacket into the bag, I feel my back stiffen and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I hear the unforgettable and unique sound that my ears are especially tuned for. The sexy moan that never fails to make me hard in an instant; the moan of the one and only Brian Kinney. **SHIT. I could’ve sworn I didn’t see him anywhere!**_

_I whip my head around to where the glorious noise is coming from and I wonder if I’ve officially fucking gone insane. Right in front of my eyes I see the memory playing right in front of my eyes like a movie of me as I feed Brian ice cream off a spoon while he’s lounging back in his ridiculously expensive chair. Fuck, it was so hot… licking the cold ice cream that dripped down every inch of his deliciously toned body. I’ll never be able to think of ice cream in the same way again; every time the ice cream hits my tongue I’ll want Brian’s tongue right back there intertwined with mine… the perfectly sweet combination of Brian and ice cream wrapped into one, forming mouthwatering ice cream kisses._

_I head up the stairs to the bedroom and walk over to the nightstand as I start shoving my socks into the bag. I turn to the closet, slide the door open and pull the few shirts I have hanging up off their hangers. Just as I’m wadding them up and throwing them into my bag I turn my head to the bathroom as I hear the sound of water… **Fuck, I didn’t think I heard the shower when I came in here…**_

_I slowly tread towards the bathroom and turn around the corner to see the vision of Brian and me in the shower kissing before the many times he shoved me against the shower wall and fucked me. It was practically impossible for Brian and me to not share a shower. The way I see it is, why waste water? There was something about sex with Brian in the shower that always felt so… tender and intimate, before things heated up and he fucked me senseless of course. But the way he would look at me and kiss me all over my body whenever we were in the shower just always felt so… loving. Especially the simple task of soaping each others bodies and hair, the gentleness and caring way his fingers would attend to each and every inch of my body never failed to make me feel so blissfully sated and special. Maybe it’s the fact that showering with Brian is something only I shared with him._

_I mentally shake the thoughts from my head. **Fuck, I have to get out of here; my mind is obviously trying to manipulate and torture me.**  I quickly grab a few things off the bathroom counter, including my toothbrush, before rushing out of the bathroom and back down the stairs. I grab some of my art books and sketchbooks off the computer desk. As I turn around I’m yet again faced with another flashback of Brian fucking me on the bed. Jesus, I can’t get out of here fast enough… I feel like I can’t fucking breathe as I feel tears prickling at the back of my eyes._

_I finally make it to the door and sweep my eyes across the loft one last time. It holds too many memories for me to count… the very place I lost my virginity. A tiny part of me was kind of hoping I would see Brian either at the diner getting a cup of morning coffee or here at the loft… Sure, it would hurt like hell, but it would be worth seeing his face one last time… **My God, it hasn’t even been a day yet and I’m already having withdrawals. The official last time I see Brian’s face, and it’s composed of my memories in the form of hallucinations. Just fucking great.**_

_Who am I kidding? I’ll never really stop seeing his face; like he said to me that morning he dropped me off at school… I can see him in my dreams. And I most certainly will. The memories and dreams my mind conjures up will be the only way I will ever see his face again; I guess I should start getting used to that. I’ve accepted Brian and me aren’t right for each other anymore and its time for us to part ways… we both deserve happiness and being together just isn’t a possible way of achieving what we each want out of life. We’re too different and want completely different things. I think we both started realizing that quite a while ago; we just weren’t willing to admit it to ourselves, but it’s time now. Nonetheless, I just know my heart will never be able to fully accept the fact that I will never be seeing his beautiful face in person again. It’s practically impossible for me to imagine my life without Brian in it… its already happened, though. I can only hope that with time my heart finds a way to accept it the way that my mind has somehow managed to. I take a deep breath before slamming the door shut. There’s no looking back now._

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

New York City

 

Saturday, August 8, 2020

 

10:31 A.M.

 

 

 

 

Dad insisted on taking me to the airport and yet again offered to drive me to New York as we sat in the car directly in front of the terminal. When he hugged me goodbye I seriously thought he wasn’t ever going to let me go, which was really odd and made me realize just how nervous and paranoid he really was about me flying. Each time I’ve flown somewhere since… the accident… he’s been in the seat right next to me. So, this is the first time I’m officially flying alone since it happened… I figure that if it’s my time to go, I really have no choice in the matter. I refuse to live my life in fear. I understand why Dad is so terrified, though. I can only imagine the thoughts running through his head. I think that a parent who has experienced what he has would be scared of losing their child in a traumatic way.

 

Fortunately, the flight winds up being uneventful, although I found myself hoping to induct at least one hot guy into the Mile High Club. The second I got off the plane I called dad to let him know that I was in New York and just fine so he wouldn’t worry another second longer than he had to. He tried to make it sound like he was busy working as he told me I had better start taking the city by the balls like he knew I would. But I could still hear the catch in his voice and the quick, tiny sigh of relief as I felt the fear drain out of him when I called.

 

I got my luggage and hailed a cab to head to my new apartment. When Dad found out I was moving to New York he said he had a cousin he had known since childhood that lived there and had a son around my age. So I contacted him and found out that we had a lot in common, including a love of all sports and the finer things in life.  When he mentioned that his roommate was graduating and would be moving out at about the same time that I would need a place to stay, I knew it was fate that I would become his new roommate.  It was the perfect arrangement for both of us.  I also discovered that he has a really fancy shmancy job at some restaurant in midtown Manhattan; hence his ability to afford a really sweet apartment that he described as having a 'modern, futuristic twist.'  I could barely contain my excitement and couldn’t wait to break out on my own and see my new digs. 

 

I pay the cab driver and grab my luggage out of the trunk before walking up a long sidewalk towards an all-white building with several stories. I enter the building by punching in the code he gave me to use and notice that there are two modern looking elevators with shiny, white doors.  **Well, this is big step up from dad’s 500- year-old elevator, that’s for sure** , I couldn't help thinking, as I admire their sleek, modern style.  I take the elevator to the 7th floor and disembark to see a white door on each side of the hallway. I turn to the door on the left, which has the number '601' in luminescent white letters displayed to the right of the door in marked contrast to the shiny, black walls. I set my bags down and reach above the door where he said there would be a key card. Not a key, but a key card;  **Yep** , I thought;  **definitely not Dad's style of loft**. I can’t help but think as I locate it how predictable it was hiding a spare key above the door… I mean, really, anyone could find it.

 

I slide the card into a thin, discreet slot located underneath the number of the apartment and hear a soft click allowing me entrance.  Turning the doorknob, I grab my bags as I enter my new apartment to take a tentative peek. The second I walk in I am completely blown away.  **Holy shit! This place is unbelievable… I feel like I’m literally in the future, it's fucking sweet.**  It’s entirely black and white, which in most cases would make a place look completely bland, but this place looks absolutely phenomenal. Directly ahead is a hallway with a door in the center and a door on each side. He said we have to share a bathroom, but that its ginormous. To the right is the living room; the walls and floor are shiny white, glass-like tile. On the ceiling there’s this indented shape that I figure out is a recessed light. The couch is huge with a white top and black bottom; there is a chair that matches the couch as well. At the end of the couch and chair there’s a shelf for books, too. Then, in the center is a shiny, black coffee table with a shag area rug of the same color underneath it. Directly in front of the couch is a big, white, flat screen TV on the wall with speakers surrounding it.

 

To my left I see the kitchen; a wall of glass is the only thing separating it from the living room. All of the appliances are the same shiny white as the walls and floor with an island in the center directly in front of the table. The table is glass with six unique, black chairs surrounding it.  As I stand there in awe, I couldn't help thinking that despite the fact that I don't cook there was no question that it was a kick-ass, gourmet kitchen that anyone would envy.

 

I walk out of the kitchen and down the hall to check out the bathroom.  As I stand in the doorway, I notice two, identical, black-and-white, futuristic-looking toilets directly in front of me and I shake my head in confusion.   **What the fuck?  Why the hell are there two of them?**  I look to the right and there’s a huge mirror directly above the black and white sink against a gray-and-white marble wall. Then I look to my left and I can't help smiling in pleased surprise. The entire left half of the bathroom is covered with a glass wall that leads into a shower and a Jacuzzi.  **Oh yeah, now I can get used to this… This bathroom is going to offer the hottest shower and Jacuzzi fucks; I can’t wait.**

 

I go back to the living room where I left my luggage and decide that it’s time for me to start unpacking; I might as well get the boring shit over with first. I walk towards the door on the right where he said my room would be and open the door.  It’s breathtaking.  It has the same walls and floor as the rest of the apartment, but the ceiling has a 3-D shape as a light. The king-sized bed matches the room with a black, white, and gray duvet and a black, plush rug underneath it. Directly across from the bed is a sleek workspace with a chair in front of it; the perfect place to hold my laptop while I surf the web or work on school assignments. To the right of that is a black dresser; situated directly to the right of it is a white, sliding door leading to, thankfully, a spacious walk-in closet to hold all the clothes my dad is constantly buying me, even though I don't need them.  As I walk over to a huge, glass, sliding door located to the left of the bed, I open it to stand on the attached balcony and drink in the insanely spectacular view of NYC, thinking how lucky I am.   **This place is fucking perfect!**

 

 

As I walk back to my dresser to start placing some of my clothes into the drawers, I see a note on top of it and pick it up to read it:

 

_Gus,_

_Sorry I couldn’t be there to welcome you to the big city. Work has been an absolute bitch lately. I thought I was gonna have the night off tonight to be able to take you out and show you around, but I have to fill in for a friend of mine. Her mom had a heart attack today, so she had to fly back home and asked me if I could cover for her. I have to work literally all fucking day today – I don’t get off until around midnight. I’m really sorry. I was gonna take you out to this club called PULSE tonight; it’s the hottest gay club in the Big Apple. Don’t let my sucky job keep you from having fun tonight, too._

_Go get some._

_-A_

God, it’s gonna be great living with him, he’s so much like me!  Alright, so I’ll unpack, go check in with things at school to make sure that everything is set up and ready to go and then… what else… Oh! I have to go pick up the car dad wants to surprise me with for graduating. I tried to talk him out of it, but then he reminded me that I would have to take cabs everywhere and that’s definitely not happening. I just hope it’s not something too expensive… I don’t want him paying for everything. But knowing Dad, I’m sure it’s the top of the line. Might as well check out this PULSE place tonight, too… I’m in fucking New York City, there’s no way in hell I’m staying home my first night here!

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

New York City

 

Saturday, August 8, 2020

 

10:43 A.M.

 

Langone Medical Center

 

 

 

 

I place my hand on top of Izzy’s shoulder before saying, “I love your use of colors today, Iz; looks like you’re in a good mood today.”

 

She turns her head to face me with the paintbrush still in her hand before blinking up at me with the biggest and most beautiful twinkling blue eyes and saying, “Uh, huh, Grammy made blueberry pancakes this morning! AND she let me have a cookie, too!" She exclaims while bouncing on her chair.

 

I smile and say, “Wow, today IS a good day, then! I wish I had what you had for breakfast; all I had was some boring ‘ole cereal!”

 

I’m interrupted when I hear a somewhat tentative voice say behind me, “Uh, excuse me, are you Mr. Taylor?”

 

I turn around and see a young man with blonde spiked tips, bright green eyes, and freckles across his cheeks, and the cutest nervous grin on his face. I smile and stick out my hand. “You’re Jake, right?”

 

He nods his head yes and shakes my hand while trying to keep his gaze down.  **Ah, so he’s a shy one.**

 

“Well, Jake, I’m really glad you decided to volunteer. I can use all the help I can get and they all really love when visitors come. If you wanna follow me to my desk I can fill you in on what you can do to help, and answer any questions you might have.  Just give me a second, okay?”

 

He lifts his head and smiles before saying, “Okay, yeah, thanks.”

 

I turn back to Izzy and kneel down beside her. “Alright, Iz, I’ll be right back.  But keep up the good work; you’re creating a masterpiece today. I think it’s missing a little something, though, don’t you?”

 

She crinkles her nose before looking at me and saying, “What’s it missing?”

 

I smile and say, “I think every good work of art needs some glitter, don’t you?”

 

Her entire face lights up with a smile and she says, “Oh, yes!” Her face clouds over, though, and her bottom lip begins to quiver as she laments, “But I don’t have any glitter…”

 

“Well, it’s a good thing I do, then!” I exclaim as I stand up and ruffle the hair on the top of her head.

 

Her eyes almost pop out of her head as she looks up at me with her mouth in the shape of an 'o.' “You do!?” she asks excitedly.

 

“Yep, and it’s all just for you! If you have all the colors of the rainbow put onto your painting by the time that I get back, then I’ll give it to you, deal?” I say with a grin.

 

She bobs her head up and down quickly as she says, “Deal.” She immediately turns back to her painting and dips her brush into the indigo and is concentrated on swishing the brush in big strokes across the page.

 

I walk back to my desk and take a seat across from Jake and fold my arms to peer intently over at him. “Alright, Jake. Well, as you already know we provide a way here for people with emotional problems to express themselves through art and explore who they are, as well as help people who are physiologically or psychologically challenged. Mostly what you will be doing is helping me get the necessary supplies out and have everything ready before we open, as well as talk to them as they draw, paint, or work with clay. If you approach this job with the right attitude, you will walk away each day with a smile on your face knowing that you helped make a difference in someone's life." I smile at the thought of how much satisfaction I derive from doing just that. "I know that really makes me feel like I've accomplished something, knowing that I've made an impact on their lives in a positive way. I need someone, then, who is not only efficient, but even more so, someone who is compassionate. I'm hoping that you will be that person.  That's what I'll be trying to determine today.  Do you have any questions for me first about what is expected of you?" 

 

He fidgets in his chair a little before saying, “What am I supposed to… say to them…?”

 

I smile.  I had expected that question; this job was not for everyone, and I had expected a little hesitation about what it entailed. “Just encourage them, say positive things, and show a genuine interest in what they do. Listen to them instead of just hearing what they say; there's a big difference. You have no idea how far a compliment or a word of encouragement can go to make an entire day go from terrible to okay around here. If you care about people and you demonstrate that to them, you will be just fine. Just be yourself and treat them as people with the same hopes and dreams that you have, not as patients who need help.  In fact, here we don't call them patients at all; there are no patients in this room, simply people who are intent on improving themselves and making changes in their lives for the better."

 

I study him carefully as he nods in understanding.  "Does that sound like something you would like to do?  I need you to be totally honest with me here, because I want someone who will be committed to viewing this as not just a volunteer job, but almost as a calling, if you would." 

 

Jake nods and actually smiles at that. "Yeah. I've done several hours of volunteer work in similar situations before.  That's what appeals to me about this job; the ability to make a difference in the world. "

 

I nod, pleased. "Good.  Then if you're ready, why don't we try a trial run today? At the end of the day if you decide it's what you want to do, the job is yours."

 

He smiles warmly at me. "Sure!  Sounds good." 

 

I nod back at him with a smile of my own.  "Okay," I tell him as I stand up. "Then let me show you around." 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. I find out that my initial instincts had been correct about Jake.  He came across as shy at first, but once he got his bearings with the people in the room, he started loosening up and participating in each person's work. I noticed several attendees who were allowing him to help them with their projects; that was a good sign that they trusted him and accepted him. 

 

Just as the last person leaves, I walk over to him and help grab the markers off the table and put them into a large, plastic container.

 

“So, what do you think?” I ask him as he places the lid on top and hands it to me.

 

He looks up at me with a newfound light in his eyes and a bright smile across his face, “You were right. Today was amazing. I didn’t even feel like I was working!”

 

“That’s how I feel every single day, but like they say, when you love what you do it isn’t considered work at all. So… You think you’re gonna come back?” I ask, even though I think I already know the answer by the look on his face.

 

“Definitely!” he exclaims enthusiastically.  “I hope you don’t mind seeing me around for a while," he asks me sheepishly as he explains, "I just moved here about a week ago to start school, so I don’t really have much to fill my time with besides classes.”

 

I finish closing the lid on the marker container before saying incredulously, “Are you kidding? You were great today!  So what are you going to school for?” 

 

He shrugs and bites his bottom lip, “Well, I’m still undecided… there are just so many options.  I have no idea where to even begin to think about what I want to do with my life other than something in a service capacity, y'know?”

 

I nod in understanding as I say, “Don’t rush it; you have plenty of time to figure out what you want to do with the rest of your life.”

 

We’ve gotten everything put away, so I grab my jacket and head towards the door. I turn the lights off and let him out first before locking the door behind me.

 

“Well, uh, thanks again so much for allowing me to help out; I had a really great time," he tells me while shuffling his feet.

 

He starts turning away but I stop him. The words were out of my mouth before I gave it any thought. “Wait, do you have plans tonight?”

 

He gets a confused look on his face before saying, “Nope, just me, my TV, and some movies; my typical, exciting Saturday night.” He starts blushing after realizing what he just said.

 

I feel so bad… it doesn’t sound like he really knows anyone yet. I remember how I felt when I first moved to New York and Ethan was getting gigs left and right.  This city can make you feel really lonely and swallow you up whole in a heartbeat. I know Bryson told me that he’s going out with Emma tonight and he always thinks about me when I’m at home alone on the weekends. He needs to have a good time and not worry about his dad tonight. This is the perfect opportunity for everyone. Bryson will have a good time tonight, Jake won't have to endure another lonely Saturday night, and I… well, my son is right.  I need to start getting out more.

 

I smile at him as I explain, “Well, everyone has to eat. Do you wanna grab a bite to eat somewhere?” I see a glimmer of what looks like hope and excitement flash across his eyes and I cringe inside. I have seen that look far too many times in the past, and I know exactly what it means.  **Oh, my God; I could practically be his father, for Christ’s sake! I’ve got to think of something to say before he gets the wrong impression and thinks this is a date.**  I mentally shake my head before clarifying, “I could explain more about my career so you might get a better idea of what I do. That might help you to decide if it's a field you might want to pursue."  

 

I see the slight disappointment on his face appear before the flicker of hope diminishes and is replaced with a slight smile of his own in understanding.  “Yeah, sure, that would be great," he replies softly, although I can tell he had been hoping for something else.  Better to make that clear right now, though.

 

I smile back at him in relief and say, “Alright; I’ll meet you in the parking lot in a sec.  I have to call my son first.”

 

As I whip out my phone, I can't help thinking that Gus is probably going to think I’m joking.  **God, I can’t remember the last time I went out after work.**

 

I dial his number and hear him say, “Yeah?”

 

I shake my head and laugh. “Bryson, you don’t just answer your phone with yeah, for God's sake! What if someone was calling you for the first time? You sound like a punk.”

 

I could almost hear smirk on the other end of the line as he told me, “Well, obviously if they have the privilege of having my number they should know who it is. I’m not answering my phone with hello or hi like some old geezer; this is 2020, not the 1950’s."

 

**_Such a Bryson thing to say_**. "I'll try not to think you were directing that at me," I tease him as I explain, "I called to let you know that I probably won’t be home ‘til later.  You're still going out with Emma tonight, right?”

 

I hear the other end of the phone go completely silent, and I frown. “Brys? You still there?”

 

“Wait a minute,” he says slowly as if he’s trying to comprehend what I’ve just said. “You're actually going  _out_? As in YOU going out of the house for something besides work?”

 

I roll my eyes before replying, “Oh, stop being so melodramatic! I go out to places other than work.”

 

“Oh, yeah," he instantly agreed.  "To the grocery store, to take me to school since you won’t buy me a car, to get gas, and to pay bills; sorry, how could I possibly forget?” he remarks sarcastically before snorting.

 

“Ha-ha, very funny.  I gotta go; he’s waiting for me.”

 

**_SHIT. I can’t believe I just let that slip. Now he’s going to think I’m going on a date or something_.**

 

I wait for it. Finally I hear, “HE, as in a GUY, he?”

 

**_I sigh; I knew that was coming_** _._   “Yes, Bryson, as in a guy, as in a male CO-WORKER.” I emphasize the word 'co-worker,' hoping he realizes it’s not a date. But I soon find out that doesn't convince him.

 

“You’ve got a date!?" he practically shrieks at me. "And it’s with someone you work with? Tsk tsk – fraternizing with the employees. Look at you," he says with a hint of pride in his voice, almost like I was his son rather than the other way around.

 

**_Oh, God._**  “It’s not a date, Bryson.  He’s new to New York and I’m taking him out to make him feel more comfortable, like a FRIEND would do, that’s all. Now I really gotta go, be home by midnight!”

 

"I'll let you stay out 'til one."

 

I can't help laughing.  "Not ME...YOU!  Midnight, Bryson.  It's curfew; You know the rules."

 

I can practically see him rolling his eyes through the phone before he sighs, “Fiiinneee. God, you’re pathetic, you sound just like Grandma.”

 

I grin.  “I’ll see you later tonight.  Have fun, but BE CAREFUL," I can't help saying.

 

“You too," he intones solemnly, but I now he's only trying to ruffle me.  "Don't make your 'co-worker' TOO comfortable."

 

“I mean it, Bryson, stay safe tonight!”  Even though I know my son has a good head on his shoulders, it is the  _others_  I worry about and what they would do to HIM, not the other way around. 

 

“Shouldn’t I be telling YOU that?” he asks before snickering.

 

I groan inwardly before saying, “I’ll see you later Bryson. I love you.”

 

“Love you too, and don’t worry, I’ll be fine.  Wish I could say the same for the other poor fella you’re taking out tonight, though.”

 

“Goodbyyyeee, Bryson!”

 

“Later, heartbreaker.”

 

I start laughing as I walk to my car. I’ve never met anyone with less of a censor than Bryson before. Well, except for one other person… I sigh as a certain face coalesces in my mind.  Damnit.  I almost went an entire day... almost.  It’s too damn hard when practically everything in my daily life reminds me of a memory or something to do with him. It’s freaking ridiculous.

 

As I lift my eyes, I spot Jake waiting for me, and am grateful that at least for a little while I can focus on something else.  Nodding my head at him, I hurry over to join him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

New York City

 

Saturday, August 8, 2020

 

5:14 P.M.

 

 

 

 

“My dad so has a date tonight," I tell Em with a conspiratorial grin while tossing my phone onto the coffee table.

 

She stops midstride on her way to the kitchen and whips her head towards me, her mouth agape in shock.  “WHAT?”

 

“My thoughts exactly," I say with a chuckle as I sit down on the couch.

 

She quickly walks back towards me and plops down next to me to bestow an inquisitive look on me.  "So, he actually told you that he’s going on a date tonight?”

 

I shrug and respond, “Basically.  I mean, it's Dad, so obviously he didn’t like actually come out and say it word for word. He made up some bullshit that he’s being  _friendly_ to a guy that’s new to the city. But I mean,  _come on!_ He told me he’s taking him out to dinner tonight! He never takes  _anyone_  out to dinner, Em, you know that.”

 

She bites her lip as if in thought before saying, “I don’t know, Brys… maybe he really IS just being nice and showing this guy that’s new to the big city around; it sounds like something your dad would do. I truly think if your dad was dating again he would tell you, so you would stop bugging him about it all the freaking time.  I know that I would if I were him.”

 

“I’m not like you; I don’t bug people," I say with a smirk.

 

She slaps me hard on the stomach before saying, “You are SO full of it.”

 

“Besides,” I continue. “I really don’t see him telling me about someone unless things get to be serious. Knowing him, he probably wouldn’t admit to me that he had a date in the first place in case things ended up not working out. I think he feels like I’m pressuring him, but I’m not."  I pause for a moment before adding softly," I just want him to be happy.”

 

She gives me a sad smile before pulling me into a hug. “I know, but you gotta let him find his own path toward his happiness.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I say as I get up from the couch. “Christ, you’re such a girl!" I tell her with a teasing grin.  "One minute you’re hitting me, and the next you’re hugging me. I’m hungry; let's go get something to eat.”

 

“How in the world could you possibly be hungry!?” she asks as she follows me to the kitchen. “You had like four heaping plates at that buffet place we went to for lunch and you practically inhaled an entire bag of Doritos an hour ago!”

 

I roll my eyes before explaining as if it were the most natural thing in the world, “Yeah, but that was an hour ago, Em.”

 

She throws up her hands in exasperation, “I seriously don’t understand how you have a constant appetite. And you don’t ever gain a freaking pound no matter how much shit you eat! I can’t even eat a single slice of pizza without working it off!”

 

I laugh and shrug before saying flippantly, “Some of us are just born with an interminably flawless figure, I suppose.”

 

I snicker as I hear her mutter 'asshole' before turning to me and saying, “Well, alright then, Mr. Cocky, what do you want to eat?”

 

“I’m thinking steak and mashed potatoes from that new steak place I told you I’ve been wanting to try.”

 

“No way,” she says with her arms crossed. “I’ll blow up if don’t eat something light tonight.  I ate waaay too much for lunch, and unlike you I have a normal stomach that actually prevents me from eating a bazillion things a day.”

 

“Fine.  Then what did you have in mind, Princess?”

 

She glares at me before replying, “How about I make a salad for me and I’ll cook that steak and potatoes you’re dying for, Your Highness?”

 

I start doubling over and laughing hysterically before asking, “ _You’re_  going to cook?”

 

“Yes,  _I’m_ going to cook.  Unlike you I don’t constantly eat at fast food places. Someday your entire body is going to suddenly start accounting for all of the crap you consume and you’re going to be fat and old. While  _I,_ of course, will still have my trim figure," she explains as she starts getting stuff out of the fridge.

 

I harrumph.  “Pfft, whatever makes you sleep better at night, Em. Just know that my dad eats just as much as I do and he may be old, but he’s certainly not fat. Don’t hate us cuz we’re beautiful," I respond with a smirk.

 

She huffs before saying, "Well, some of us mere mortals need time to make themselves look completely beautiful, so go get ready so I can have the bathroom to myself after we eat.”

 

I walk up behind her as she’s making her salad and wrap my arms around her waist as I tilt my head to kiss her on the cheek, “You don’t have to try to look beautiful, Em. You always look beautiful and you know it.”

 

I can see her cheeks start to turn blood red as she smiles before swatting me away and clearing her throat to say, “Go on, I’ve witnessed first hand how long it takes for you to pick out an outfit, and dinner will be ready before you know it.  And I’m NOT reheating it for you.”

 

"Yes, Ma'am," I respond dutifully with a salute as I turn and head toward the bathroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

New York City

 

Saturday, August 8, 2020

 

6:43 P.M.

 

 

 

 

I decided to have Jake meet me at Good Stuff Diner. I remember the very first time I came here about a month after making the big move. Right away it reminded me a little of the diner back home with a little modern mixed in with the retro feel that any good diner has. Of course there is no Debbie, but there never could be anyone to come close to the one-of-a-kind Debbie Novotny, especially not in my heart. No one will ever come close. Besides Deb, the only main difference I see from the diner back home and here are the prices. But everything in New York is more expensive than pretty much everything back home. I usually try to come here about once a week since I first discovered it, because it makes me feel at home in some ways.  The entire diner staff is like a family and you can feel the love and camaraderie between them, just like back on Liberty Ave.

 

We sit in the back corner booth and I order my usual Good Stuff burger with a side of fries, while he orders the Hot Open Turkey sandwich with mashed potatoes and vegetables. We each get a chocolate milkshake after I suggest it to him; they’re absolutely incredible here. This is the only place where I’ll ever pay $6 for a milkshake, but it's oh so worth it.

 

He starts telling me how he moved up here from a small town in Florida on a swimming scholarship. He reminds me a lot of myself in some ways when I was his age; he has the determination and desire to really get out and explore the world. He explains that he’s really starting to miss his little sister who is eight and that he’s pretty close to his mom but not to his dad, because he came out to them his senior year as being bi and he can feel the relationship they built slowly slipping away. Well, I can definitely relate to that.

 

“So, what made you decide to volunteer at LMC?" I ask after taking a drink of my milkshake, savoring the sweet, chocolate taste as the coldness slides down my throat.

 

“Well, I volunteered a lot at various places my senior year in high school to help make my application look better for college."   I nod as he goes on to explain, "I volunteered at hospitals, nursing homes, food banks, and homeless shelters, at first just so I would look good.  But when it was time for me to leave to come here to New York, I started realizing how much I actually missed doing that kind of work, so I decided to check into different places to volunteer.  I started reading about LMC's work that they do and it really intrigued me.  We didn't have anything like that back home.”

 

He pauses to take a sip through his straw before continuing. “I’ve always loved drawing since I was a little kid.  Nothing serious; just doodling, really, but it’s still something I enjoy doing from time to time.  When I saw that there was actually a thing called art therapy, I knew I had to see what is was all about and made the call to Langone.”

 

I swallow a bite of fries before smiling at him and saying, “Well, if you put your heart and mind into it, I really think you could be a wonderful art therapist. A lot of people think that it’s mostly all about having to be some sort of serious artist or act as a therapist. But it's not.  It's about more than that… I mean, yeah, you have to study and master in psychology and human development so you can pick up on metaphors and nonverbal symbols that are usually expressed through the creative process. But in my personal opinion the therapy part of art therapy is highly overrated.

 

Art is such a beautiful and wonderful way for people to communicate through an underlying message in their work. It not only allows people to have fun and feel free to express themselves, but it also helps to improve and heal them without pressuring them.  It's a way for them to receive treatment without all the formality that traditional therapies practice. This type of therapy is all about helping the individual when they are ready, and can be used for such a large variety of people. Art therapy can be used for rehabilitation, psychotherapy, delving deeper into a person's understanding of themself, relieving stress and tension, improving self-esteem, and even in counseling settings to help resolve issues and manage and develop feelings and behaviors. Art is also an extremely useful tool in terms of working through disabilities and traumas. I have firsthand knowledge of that.” 

 

He looks at me as if he’s in a trance before grinning and saying, “Wow…”

 

I blush when I realize I probably just sounded like a public service announcement like Brian always used to say. … ** _Shit_**. I mentally shake the thoughts out of my head before they can even begin to form and respond, “Yeah."  I chuckle.  "Sorry about the speech. I get a little carried away sometimes.”

 

“Oh, gosh no, don’t be,” he says as he shakes his head back and forth with a smile. “It’s really great talking to someone that truly loves what they do. You’re really passionate about your job; that’s a rare commodity these days. If you don’t mind, may I ask how you decided to become an art therapist?”

 

“Of course I don’t mind," I tell him as I swirl a fry in some ketchup on my plate.  "I actually started out quite a lot like you. I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do when I first started college. I’ve always imagined myself painting and making a name for myself in the art world. I was actually pretty successful at first and eventually came up with more than enough money to start going back to school. At first I was going to take some classes in art history and stuff in hopes of maybe owning my own gallery one day, but then when I was looking at all of the majors offered in the NY Steinhardt pamphlet and saw the words ‘Master of Arts in Art Therapy,' and after I read about it I just knew it was what I wanted to do. It really hit close to home with me when I thought about all of the lives that I could help better through my passion for art." I take a deep breath; even now one particular event was still somewhat traumatic for me.  "I got bashed in my head with a baseball bat my senior year in high school and thought I’d never draw again." Before Jake could say anything in sympathy, I forged ahead.  "Now I’m not saying it’s been easy, it’s been really fucking hard, actually, and it will always be a challenge. "I’ll always have difficult days. I’ve never drawn the same again because of my gimp hand, but I still make art to this day and I want to help people not give up like I almost did.” I suck in a breath before shaking my head as if to wipe away the suddenly morose mood I found myself in. 

 

“I’m really sorry that happened to you,” Jakes tells me quietly with a somber expression. “But your strength and career choice really are changing people's lives and helping them overcome probably the most difficult times they will ever go through. You should be really proud of yourself for that.  You've turned something terrible into something good.”

 

A huge smile breaks out across my face. It means a lot more than he knows to truly hear that someone thinks I’m actually doing something right for once.  He really gets it.  “Thanks, Jake, that means a lot to me.  Is being an art therapist something you think you might consider wanting to do?” I ask.

 

He raises his eyebrows in thought for a second and nods before replying, “Yeah, I guess I really am considering it. I want to help people and have an effect on their lives. I think I’m gonna see how the volunteering goes for a little bit longer before I make any huge steps, such as changing my major, but I can definitely see it being a big possibility.  May I ask why you chose to work at NYU Langone Medical Center out of all the hospitals in New York?”

 

I smile in recollection as I tell him, “Truthfully? One little girl made Langone the only possibility for me. I started volunteering at various hospitals with an art therapy program like you’re doing now as part of my internship when I was in school, and after about a week I instantly fell in love with a beautiful little blue-eyed girl that made all the other hospitals simply disappear before my eyes.”

 

He frowns as I explain, "You remember the little girl I was talking to when you came in this morning?”  He nods his head yes. 

 

I can't help smiling as I tell him, “That’s the little girl who stole my heart without even trying. Her name is Izzy. Let me tell you, that perfect girl has been through hell and back.  Her story completely broke my heart in two. After hearing what she has endured in her life, any day that I can make her smile and lighten her heart is a great day for me."  I purse my lips tightly together for a moment before I add, "NO child should ever have to go through what she has been through." 

 

Jake stares over at me intently before he grabs a napkin out of its holder on the table and wipes off his hands as he smiles at me and replies, “You’re a true inspiration.  I hope you realize that.”

 

I blush over the compliment.  "Thanks," I murmur.  "But I'm the one who sees inspiration every day." 

 

We finish our meals in companionable silence before I leave a tip and pay the bill – deciding to treat Jake to his dinner as a thank you for his help earlier today – and we head outside into the breezy night air.

 

In the parking lot as we're standing next to our cars, he smiles warmly at me before softly saying, “Mr. Taylor, I just want to say thank you." 

 

"It wasn't THAT expensive," I mumble in embarrassment.

 

"No, not that," he tells me.  "What I mean is, I truly can’t tell you how much I appreciate you taking the time to explain to me what you do and what it means to you.  Not to mention helping me to avoid spending another Saturday night at home alone," he grins ruefully as I smile back at him.  "I've never seen anyone with such a passion for their work.  You might just be looking at another art therapist in the making."   

 

“Well, let me just say that I can't think of a more rewarding profession than what I do.  And if you should decide to pursue a career as an art therapist, you will not regret it.  There are very few people who can say they actually love what they do and derive satisfaction from it.  I'm grateful that I can say that about my job, because I don't look at it as just a job.  I'm making a real difference in other people's lives, and I can't tell you how wonderfully satisfying that is." 

 

Jake nodded.  "I can see that.  And I hope that if I DO decide to become an art therapist, I hope I can be just as passionate about it as you – and just as good." 

 

I feel my face warm over all the compliments.  "Thank you," I tell him humbly as he nods.  I pause for a second as we stand somewhat awkwardly next to our cars.  "Well, I'd better get going," I tell him, feeling oddly like this WAS the ending to a date even though I had made it abundantly clear to him that it was not.  I hope that Jake understands that.  "I'll see you tomorrow.  Oh, and Jake?" 

 

“Yeah, Mr. Taylor?”

 

“You can call me Justin," I tell him as I unlock my car door. “I’ll see you Monday.  Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

 

“You too, Justin," he replies with a smile before we both step into our cars and pull out of the parking lot.

 

He’s such a sweet kid. If only he were about 12 years older I might’ve even asked him to go out sometime as more than just friends. I hadn't missed the look of adoration on his face before.  But unfortunately he’s not 12 years older and I’m not getting any younger. It was kind of nice having dinner with someone again, though. And I absolutely hate that Bryson worries about me being forever alone, so maybe I really should try to get back out there. Otherwise I most likely will be just that - alone. Will my heart ever feel completely full and satisfied again, though? Probably not, because one particular man still holds a big chunk of it back in Pittsburgh. But I could at least probably find someone to spend my nights with and laugh with. It’s not as if I’ve really got much to lose by simply trying.

 

Tonight, though, I'm going to head home and wait just like I always do for the most important person in my life to come home safely.  He's the one thing besides my work that I feel like I can be proud of. As I do, I will try not to focus on the fact that I have few too few nights left before he won't be coming home to me at all anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

New York City

 

Saturday, August 8, 2020

 

9:29 P.M.

 

 

 

 

I call Dad as I’m driving my way toward PULSE in my brand new, black-on-black, fully custom Range Rover. I knew when I went to go pick it up from the address he gave me to expect something completely over the top, but I was still shocked to see how he had had it completely custom made just for me. When I called to thank him for such a kick-ass vehicle, he told me that nothing is over the top for his Sonny Boy, and that no son of his was going to be driving around New York City in anything less than the best.

 

I wasn't surprised.  My entire life he’s bought me the most expensive clothes and furniture and practically anything I ever wanted – he has completely spoiled me. But I know it's just his way of showing his love for me, since he still to this day has trouble actually telling me how he feels.  It doesn’t bother me, though, for the most part.  It WOULD be nice to hear him say the words more often, but I know he loves me and that’s all that matters.   He shows that in everything that he does for me.

 

Just like in the Pitts, I feel hands grabbing and pulling at me as soon as I make my way through the door. The club is pretty impressive; it's a lot bigger than Babylon, and full of more useless, expensive shit everywhere to fully fabricate the illusion that this club is somehow better or different from all of the others, when in actuality it is no different at all. Every club has the same thumpa thumpa, the tricks, the booze, and the party favors. Everyone comes for the same exact things, to let loose and escape life when you step through the door. I make my way through the crowd and to the center of the dance floor as I start swaying my body to the beat and wait for the inevitable to happen. And after about 30 seconds I feel a body press up against me and know that it's 'go' time.  As I glance back to take a look at the trick, I decide this guy looks worthy of my first fuck of the night.  So I grind my body up against his and feel him instantly harden against my thigh before dragging him to what I’m guessing is called a ‘lounge area’, which in actuality is just a fancier name for a backroom. I lean up against the wall and push the trick down onto his knees as I unzip my jeans and let him have at it. Hopefully he knows what he’s doing; if not it doesn’t really matter, because I'm sure there will be plenty more after him. The one thing different about being in a different club in a different city is all the new, fresh meat, and I’m definitely hungry to hunt and catch all of the hot, new prey that I can find.  After all, I AM Brian Kinney's son.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

New York City

 

Saturday, August 8, 2020

 

8:43 P.M.

 

 

 

 

“Oh, my God, Em, for the last time,  _come on_!" I say for what has to be like the fifteenth time tonight. And I thought that  _I_  took a lot of time getting ready! She’s been in the bathroom for literally the last hour and a half doing her hair and makeup.

 

She finally opens the door and says, “My God, Bryson, calm down, I’m coming.”

 

“Em, I have to be back by midnight, so we need to actually LEAVE the house before then, you know?  And by the way, it’s a gay club, so unless you’ve grown a dick in the last hour that I don’t know about nobody there is going to give a shit about how you look.”

 

“Well, thanks a lot," she quips dryly.  " ** _I_** care what I look like, Bryson! Do you really want your fag hag to embarrass you by looking like shit?” She asks as she finally walks out of the bathroom and sits down to put on her shoes.

 

I start laughing uncontrollably, “Did you seriously just call yourself my fag hag?”

 

She glares at me and says, “Yep, and you’re damn lucky to have me, Stud; I’m a  **hot**  fag hag.” Shrugging she adds, “Who knows, maybe I’ll meet some totally sexy guy who simply can’t resist me. You might not be the only one getting a little action tonight.”

 

“Yes, of course.  I just hope your scorching hot looks don’t make all the guys at the club change teams at once," I respond dryly.

 

She slips her foot into her right shoe before getting up and walking over to look at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door. She furrows her brow while picking at the fabric on her dress. “Brys, you’d tell me if I didn’t look okay, right?”

 

I stand up behind her and whisper in her ear, “You look hot, I promise.”

 

I step back and tilt my head to look at her in the mirror. She looks phenomenal in a little black dress with a deep v-neckline that reaches all the way down to just above her abs and gold Cartier linked bracelets with a matching necklace. Her shoes are 6-inch, metallic gold Christian Louboutin platform stilettos to match her jewelry. She really does look fantastic.

 

“In fact, I’d fuck you in a heartbeat if you were a guy with a dick," I add with a smirk.

 

She smacks my arm playfully and rolls her eyes before responding, “Well then, I’m glad you approve. You don’t look too bad yourself there, Mr. Taylor. You can never go wrong with your tight, black, skinny leather jeans and matching leather Gucci shirt. The men are going to be all over you tonight.  “You ready?” she asks.

 

**Shaking my head, I walk behind her as we slowly start making our way down the stairs while she grips tightly onto the railing for dear life. I don’t know why Em insisted on wearing the freaking shoes in the first place! I tried to talk her out of it. I mean, yeah, they look great, but if she can’t walk on her own two feet to get anywhere in the first place, then what’s the freaking point? Ugh, _women_. After what feels like five years later, we finally make it to the bottom landing and she somehow barely manages to make it to the kitchen counter and grab her black, leather, Prada clutch; a few seconds later, she promptly loses her balance as she clutches onto the counter, stopping just in time to prevent herself from falling flat on her face.**

 

Right when we step out the door I start feeling nervous… I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I know I put on a tough and cocky act before, but I’m fucking nervous as hell about this.   ** _Well, ready or not I don’t have a choice now…_**

 

 

****

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Em parks the car across the street from PULSE and we walk up the sidewalk to get in line with a small group of other people in front of us. I can hear the music coming from inside and start feeling antsy.  Maybe I should just tell Em that I’m not feeling well. Just as I’m about to tell her, however, we’ve made it to the bouncer and he’s asking for our ID’s.  ** _Maybe he’ll be able to tell they’re fake!_**  I’m out of luck, though, as he grunts and nods his head toward the door for us to enter with so much as a dubious glance.   ** _Shit._**

 

We walk through the door and the atmosphere is electric.  I feel as if the air has been knocked right out of me by the sights and sounds assaulting us, and despite my reservations, I start getting excited. Em is practically bouncing next to me and says, “Oh, my God, Brys, can you believe this place? This is freaking incredible!”

 

I grin at her in agreement as we proceed a little further toward the side of the room where an obscenely large, curved bar is set up.  We turn and lean up against the bar a few seconds later to just stand there in complete awe and sweep our gazes around the room to take the place in. It’s nothing at all like I had expected it to be; the only word I can think of to describe it is  _heat_. You can feel the heat and excitement pumping through everyone as I see a sea of half naked males gyrating against each other to the beat on the huge dance floor. There are shiny specks of what looks like glitter sparkling throughout the air and there are six columns approximately 12 feet high scattered throughout the dance floor that are made out of glass; each one showcases a guy dancing at the top of each in nothing but little black briefs that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. They’re encased in a glass box, making it look as if they are all dancing in mid-air. 

 

As I look around the room, now I know why they call this place PULSE – The walls and floor are a deep, blood red; enormous LCD screens placed throughout the room show a heart-line monitor that ebbs and flows in perfect time with the beat of the music, music that is synchronized in exact harmony with red strobe lights that flash on and off. I guess it’s kind of like the heartbeat of this place. I feel like I’m in a completely different and beautiful world.

 

Just then a super hot guy with a glistening six-pack saunters up to me and asks me if I want to dance. Of course I don’t even have a choice in the matter as Em shoves me towards him and winks as she sits at the bar and starts flirting with some guy next to her, even though we both know it's going to be a waste of time. 

 

We make our way to the middle of the dance floor and he pulls me close against him as he rocks his body against mine while holding tightly onto my hips, and I feel myself getting hard.  **Fuck, I never even imagined two guys could dance like this!**  I feel another body come up behind me and practically start humping me.  I think he notices it, because all of a sudden I feel him pulling me along with him through the hot, sweaty bodies to a plain black door leading towards the back of the building.  ** _What the heck is he doing?_**  He opens the door and I can’t help butlet out a gasp at what I see. There are completely naked men everywhere – on their hands and knees, leaning against the walls, or reclining on various chairs and couches – all either fucking or sucking each other.  ** _Holy shit_**.  ** _What the fuck is this place? It must be heaven._**

 

As soon as he finds a vacant spot, the guy shoves my back up against the wall and pushes my shirt up a little as he goes down to his knees and kisses a path down the bare skin of my stomach, and then the realization hits me:   ** _Oh, my God, he’s gonna blow me._**  Once he gets to the top of my jeans, he undoes the button and pulls down the zipper along with my briefs in one, swift motion. I feel my cock fling straight up against my stomach. I’m hard as a rock and I shiver as I feel a hot, wet tongue lightly lick all the way from my balls to the tip of my dick as it traces the vein on the underside of my cock. I feel the tip of his tongue dip into my slit to lick up the large amount of precum that has pooled there, and can’t hold back the moan I was suppressing any longer. Just then he plunges down and takes my entire length all the way to the back of his throat in one, fast motion. I rest my hand against the wall and try to grapple for something to help try and contain more sounds threatening to pour out of my mouth, but there’s nothing there to grab onto, so I let out a long, deep groan. Oh, my God, I’ve watched a lot of porn, but absolutely NOTHING could possibly compare to this feeling of complete, euphoric bliss!

 

I feel the guy start bobbing his head up and down on my dick relentlessly as I push my hands into his hair and squeeze as tight as I can. “Oooohhh, yeah,” I moan breathlessly.  ** _God, I never want this feeling to end!_**  But then he starts fondling my balls with his other hand as he continues to deep throat me over and over, and I know I can’t last much longer.

 

I release my right hand from his hair and tap his shoulder to let him know that I’m going to cum. He just increases his speed and suction as I feel his throat tighten and swallow around the head of my dick and I just lose it. “FUUUCCCKK!" I scream out in a raspy groan as I cum in spurts deep down his throat and I feel my thigh muscles jerk and tremble in response. I see him lick his lips as he snakes his way back up my body and I hear him moan, “Mmm, that was hot; time to return the favor.”

 

Huh…?  ** _Oh, shit. He wants me to fuck him… I…. I can’t. I’m not ready for that yet. Shit, what am I supposed to say?_**  He urgently starts tugging his pants down, so in between deep breaths of trying to get my breathing back under control I back away from the wall and say, “I’m so sorry, I gotta go my, uh, friend is waiting for me," as I zip up my pants and practically start running down the long hallway. I feel like such an ass.

 

Just as I’m getting closer to the door, I feel a big hand reach out and pull me in and I feel a super hard, toned body and a huge hard cock pressing up against me. The guy is a lot taller than me and has gigantic muscles. His body is dripping with sweat so I can see each ripped muscle.  ** _Shit, he looks like a fucking model_**. One of my weaknesses in guys is the chiseled V line and his is completely distinct and sharp.

 

I look up into his eyes as he starts grinding his dick against mine while his eyes are ablaze with lust. He’s practically fucking my eyes as he reaches down and firmly grabs my dick in his hand, and I gasp as I stumble forward and hold onto his shoulder as I feel my knees start to weaken.  ** _Oh, fuck. I can’t believe I’m already hard again!_**  He puts a sexy smirk on his face and leans down to whisper in my ear, “You’re so fucking hot.”

 

I feel my heart beating a million miles a minute as he forcefully pulls me up against the wall and starts pushing my shoulders down. What – … ** _shit, he wants me to give him head. What if I’m no good?_** Oh, my God, though, if it would make this guy blow me in return… I have to at least try. I get his dick out of his pants and start stroking it up and down as I begin slowly swirling my tongue around the tip. He grunts before putting his hands in my hair and shoving his dick up into my mouth in one long, hard, thrust. He pulls back out and I feel relieved because I felt like I was literally choking on his giant cock. But then, just as soon as I take a deep breath, I feel him thrust back in. He starts fucking my mouth diligently and I start gagging.  ** _Shit, I hope he’s almost there, I feel like I can’t fucking breathe._**  I think he is because I hear him growl, “Ahhhh, fuck yeah, that’s it.” But just in case I reach down and start rolling his balls gently in the palm of my hand, and I hear his breathing become shallow so I know he’s almost there. I feel his balls tighten and draw up in my hand as I feel his entire body tense, and I know he’s going to cum any second. But before I can pull away I feel his hot cum squirting in streams deep down my throat as he tightens his hold on my hair and I feel my scalp starting to burn. But the sound I hear pour out of his mouth is all worth it – he lets out the most animalistic growl I’ve ever heard in my life and it’s sexy as hell.

 

Thank God, now it’s my turn; my dick is aching for release. He pulls me up and I feel his hot breath on my face as he pants into my ear and says, “That was so damn hot.  Now I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.” My entire body stiffens and I hold my breath. He thinks he’s going to fuck me!?  ** _Oh, my God. Oh no, no, no, no. I’ve got to get out of here! I mean, yeah, I’ve thought about bottoming before, but I don’t see myself doing that for a very, very long time… I don’t want it to mean nothing. God, this guy is going to think that I’m fucking pathetic! What in the hell am I supposed to say? ‘Well, you see, I’m actually a virgin and really not ready for that yet...sorry.’ Yeah, right._**

 

So I decide to just turn and make a break for it, but just as I start to turn away I feel his arm clamp onto my bicep and yank me back hard as he throws me against the wall directly in front of him. “I don’t think so, little boy; your ass is mine tonight," he snarls as he turns me around and I feel the wall hit my face as he starts yanking my pants down.

 

I try to get away, but he has both of my arms pinned directly above my head in a firm grip. I can feel his fingers pressing into the skin on my wrists and I know it’s going to leave bruises. I try to break free, but he’s too strong. I feel his hard dick rubbing up and down in between my cheeks as he grunts behind me and I feel tears stinging the back of my eyes. I try to scream but nothing will come out; I feel as if I’ve swallowed a pound of dry cement. Even if I did scream, though, what good would it do me? The screams of pleasure back here would no doubt drown out any noise I try to force out for help.

 

I try to reach up and bite his hands but they’re too far away; he’s too tall. I bite my lip hard instead and taste blood as I try to fight back the tears. My first time is going to be forced… and there’s nothing I can do about it. I feel the tip of his dick at my hole and I know it's about to happen and it makes me feel completely helpless and disgusted. I clamp my eyes shut as tightly as they’ll go to try to block out what is happening as I feel a tear stream down my cheek. I hold my breath and wait anxiously for the inevitable.

 

He moves one of his hands to firmly grip both of my smaller ones in his as he raises them over my head. Uncaring now of how it might sound, I gather all of my strength and manage to find my voice as I beg him as loudly as I can, “NO, PLEASE, NO, NO, NO, I’M BEGGING YOU, PLEASE DON’T! NOOOO!” I wail one final time. I feel his dick shove tightly against my hole and hold my breath and wait for the pain I know is about to come. Just as I feel his unbearably large dick trying to press inside me, I hear a furious voice behind me yelling, “WHAT PART OF NO DIDN’T YOU UNDERSTAND, ASSHOLE?” I feel the guy’s entire body go tense and grow still instantly.

 

I blink open my eyes to try and see what is happening only to find that the tears have completely blurred my vision. I blink my eyes a few times to let the tears fall as my eyes slowly adjust to the sight before me. As I tilt my head to the left I see the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen standing behind the other guy with fire burning in his eyes, making them look inky black. He literally rips the guy off me and cocks his fist back as if to strike, just before the guy starts running away as fast as his feet can take him. I wipe the tears from my face and rub my sore wrists with my fingers for a second before remembering that my pants are completely down, making me feel extremely exposed and uncomfortable. I quickly bend down and pull them up before I turn around and come face to face with a God-like creature standing before me that takes my very breath away.

 

Chapter End Notes:

Here are some pictures of Gus' new apartment and the outfit Bryson wore to PULSE. Don't forget to let me know what you thought of this chapter! (:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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